:)

k. bye.

2010-05-09T13:16:00.000+08:00

THIS BLOG IS NO MORE.

reTURNING POINT

2010-03-21T21:01:00.000+08:00

I few more blinks and I'll drift back to sanity.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

2010-02-28T21:18:00.005+08:00

I don’t understand how people could put so much faith in lame superstitions. I went out to buy a bottle of soda at this convenient store when the cashier asked me the most inconsequential question ever. She asked, “Miss, is it true that when you happen to have colds, the reason behind it is that someone actually misses you?” I felt so lost and for a moment there I thought she was uttering things to lure me into a scam or some sort. I told her, “No, I don’t, because there’s a more scientific explanation as to why we incur such ordinary maladies. I think it’d be best for you to think of a prescription for your cold instead of trying to baffle yourself with such ludicrous beliefs.” And as if just snapping out trance, she smiled and said “Yeah, you’re right.”

Of course, I was right. But I understand why she desperately tried to justify her belief, or tried to find justification for it, even though its lack of acceptable basis is obvious. Because, you see, it would make her happy, somehow, knowing that there is someone who thought about her despite the distance, despite the absence. People, including myself, sometimes rely on these make-believes for the sheer pursuit of happiness because there are times when the world seems as cruel as a Sudoku game you cannot seem to get to the bottom of.

I have enjoyed my fair share of make-believes --for instance, the idea that people who appear in your dream so happened to think of you before they fell asleep. I could believe that with all my heart can afford, but don't you think it’s a bit far-fetched and somewhat egotistical if you’d continue to believe that Chace Crawford has been thinking of you and your only proof is that he appeared in your dream? But yes, I believed that once, because I’m an epic failure like that.

**

Anyway, I miss Potato like crazy. And I miss Min, too. I’ve been missing a lot of people lately for reasons that they will never be able to understand. Have you ever told a person you missed him/her and then they respond with the usual “I miss you, too,” but they just don’t get the point? Okay, so I’m not making any sense here. It’s kinda like this conversation I had one time:

Me: Hey! I missed you!
Person: Aww. I missed you, too!
Me: No. Srsly. I
miss you.
Person: I know; I get it. And I miss you, too.
Me: No, you
don’t. I miss you.
Person: Okay.
Me: I don’t miss you like ‘I miss you
because you’ve been away.’ I miss you because… you knowwww.
Person: …
Me: ... never mind.

So yeah, nevermind.

**
Okay, onto to crazier things! The square root of 500 more days ‘til summer! I can’t wait to get out of school and feel my feet again. Seriously, all the walking and running and climbing and crawling have done nothing except make them look like Sasquatch feet. I can’t wait to watch either one of the concerts slated for the summer. SUJU OR TIMBO OR PARAMORE PUHLEEEEEEEEEEEASE! I wanna see Kyu or Donghae so bad. I feel like Kyu and I will establish some sort of connection or magic moment. Or maybe Doghae and I will find our place in each others’ hearts. Dang, how extra cheesy can I possibly get?!

And Timbo’s EPIC. Won’t let you get away if we ever meet again.

Why did I have to live so faaaaaar away from where all the action is? Screw the spaces in between that I cannot bridge.

I’m so sorry if this post is lacking in substance and coherence. My mind’s not up to par right now; 2 written exams and 2 speeches this week. I’ll be dead for sure. Wish me luck!

OH YEAH, PLEASE PRAY FOR CHILE! Please, please, please do what you can to help those who’ve been devastated by the earthquake.

Heat Wave

2010-02-22T19:04:00.003+08:00

You know how most of the time people go to the mall, not to go shop, but simply to escape the heat wave outside. Yesterday was disappointing. I just wished the management announced some sort of memorandum or posted a warning sign telling people to “ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. VERY, VERY, VERY LIFE-THREATENINGLY HOT INSIDE.” It was such a wrong time to visit the mall because they were running on generators. We knew then that it would be a wrong idea to watch Percy Jackson, but we did anyway, because of the burning hope to find one place in the whole mall where it would be cool enough for our asses to calm down. But I’ve learned that being optimistic doesn’t help most of the time; we couldn’t enjoy the movie as much as we could because the whole time my dad was fanning himself, the sound system was a little messed up and I could hear some people complaining about the heat. Although it was rather difficult for me to breathe, I tried to man up and suck it all in because I was having so much fun recollecting what knowledge I have of Greek Mythology, and was surprised to find out that I pretty much still had it in me. It kind of sucked that I forgot what a demigod is, because I grew up trying to believe Hercules was, in some sense in this world, my brother, and that, bless my heart, I could walk the distance just like him.

For what seemed like the longest interlude in movie-watching history, only then did I realize how quiet the theatre could be. I heard this dude say, “God, are you here?” which made me laugh for the briefest instant. The others didn’t catch the joke, and I started to wonder if they’ve died of hyperthermia or suffocation because that was honestly a good punch line.

Later, while we were doing our grocery, the lights suddenly went off. The emergency light didn’t turn on immediately, and I was stupid enough to dismiss the opportunity of grabbing a couple of Snickers since we were standing in the darkness of the chocolates section. I could’ve done that, you know, and no one would notice, but I guess I sort of jumped silly when my sister said zombies were going to come rushing in and then we’d become instant meal. By the time the lights went back, there wasn’t any zombie anywhere and I started to regret letting the juvvy opportunity pass.
***
I’m not good at crying. Even sad movies fail to extract even just a single tear from my eye. The only movies that made me cry were Lion King, Lilo and Stitch, and A Walk to Remember. I was watching Marley and Me with Mom. I was happy to see my Mom enjoying herself especially during times when she thought about our dog, Tinkerbell. We were exchanging stories about Tinker and was surprised to know she remembered so much about our dog. As we neared the end of the movie, when Marley was already feeling weak, Mom got up to get a roll of tissue paper and started wiping her tears away. I told her “You’re so emotional,” but soon enough swallowed my own words because I found myself crying as well. I cried so much especially during the part where Luke Wilson was telling the doctor how much of a fighter Marley was and when Luke talked one last time to Marley until he finally closed his eyes to take eternal rest. It was so heartwarming. I immediately hugged Tinkerbell afterwards and thought I should let her sleep with me for the night. I love my dog so much. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

I could almost feel the same feeling John Tyree had when he read Savannah’s last letter, when he he finally realized he just lost her. I finished reading Dear John and found myself on the verge of tears every time a letter comes up. For a moment there I hated Savannah for her impatience. I hated her for giving up on the fight. I hated her for causing John so much pain. I probably still hate her now because I couldn’t imagine what John’s life would be without his dad, without her. I also thought Tim would die, and John and Savannah would be together again, but then that would be cruel and then I would hate them both just as much as I hated Lily Van der Woodsen when she immediately jumped into a relationship with Rufus Humphrey right after Bart Bass died. Lily and Rufus=plain annoying. Savannah and John=bittersweet. There must be a reason why God gave Nicholas the surname Sparks. He puts sparks in people’s eyes, in their smiles, even in their tears. KWIM?

AND YES. THIS GUY MAKES ME SOOOO HAPPPPYYYYYYYYYYY. Watch out for him!

He looks weird in the photo. But wth, I love him.

Hearts all Over the World Tonight

2010-02-14T22:28:00.003+08:00

I’m always on the other side of the spectrum when it comes to excitement about Valentine’s Day. I am under the area that exhibits less color, because I am not at all excited to celebrate a holiday that wasn’t specifically created for people like me. Yesterday, majority of my friends seemed excited about Heart’s Day as they happily greeted everyone and exchanged ILY’s even when it was still a day early. They continuously shuffled through a list of possible love songs while I argued with them about Justin Bieber’s true identity –they were claiming he was gay, and I felt predisposed to defend him. The funniest proposal I ever heard yesterday was from Dewey, when we were went to the mall together and he said, “how about we go on a date?” You see, like all my male classmates/friends, Dewey is like a brother to me. Although he was joking at the time I was worried about him because I know he’s still not over his past love and I don’t know if his desperation to move on has lead him to become suicidal. We both laughed at his sudden outbursts twice because then again he said “why not us?”

If yesterday was crazy, today was calmer. Thank God I didn’t visit the mall today! I am happy to report that I saved myself from all the pain of watching lovers do mushy things. Seriously, if you’re aiming for romantic the mall isn’t the best place for it, not even close. She said couples were holding hands at every corner and PDA was at its highest. Just listening to her account makes me want to hurl. And to top her tale off, she said they saw two chicks battling it out over a boy who’s probably not even as hot or as charming or as desirable as they (or other people) presumed him to be.

I still celebrated VD in my own way, no matter how skeptical I am of the holiday. Dad and I bought this “mouth watering” cake which eventually made swear never to eat a slice of it ever again. Thinking of the cake right now makes me want to grab a bucket and dispel all of the cake’s contents in it. The cake wasn’t awful, it’s just that it tasted so good, wait, too good, to the point that the taste easily became dated and nauseating. My sister decided to shake things up a bit by buying flowers for mom which was a bust because at the same time mom bought better flowers for herself.

Last year, I read about Adrienne and Paul’s story of love and hope in Nights in Rodanthe. This year I decided to read Dear John, also from Nicholas Sparks.

The experience of reading Dear John 2 years ago would probably be different with the experience of reading it now because now I had Channing Tatum to visualize the image of John Tyree and Amanda Seyfried as Savannah Curtis. I first saw the novel in the local bookstore way back in high school when all of us were magically transformed into competitive bookworms. When I finally had the money to purchase the book, I was no longer able to locate it in that certain bookstore and in all the other bookstores in the city. Then I bought NIR. But now the novel got adapted into a movie, and therefore there are now endless stacks of Dear John in bookstores again. So predictable.

But I want to see the movie regardless. IT'S CHANNING FRICKIN TATUM FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! <3>

I’m still halfway through the book because I had to spare some time to study for chemistry and religious Studies quizzes tomorrow. School engulfs me every single day, I know.

Actually, today was more CNY rather than VD for us. Mom did all these rituals to attract good luck and consequently drive the bad luck away. It was funny actually because our neighbors didn’t know what the heck she was up with and they thought she’s gone mad when she started scattering candies outside our house. The candies disappeared a few minutes after we heard some kids giggling outside our house and hasty footsteps afterwards.

Valentine’s Day or Chinese New Year: which celebration worked more for you?

The Chewy Side Of Life

2010-02-13T20:45:00.001+08:00

Some people might think that the worst way to spend Valentine’s Day is to spend it alone. I honestly don’t think so. Nobody spends Valentine’s Day alone because someway somehow there’s always going to be someone who would shares the same pathetic Valentine’s Day laments with you or someone who would be just as willing to mourn this day with you. That’s why in my own point of view I believe that the worst way to spend Valentine’s Day is to spend it with your parents. Why? Because you know how much their dying to have this day to themselves just like how you would love to spend this day with the person who would bear your heart, but they can’t, they just can’t, because they love you so much that they’d rather pig out with you than have an exquisite dinner at a lavish restaurant. It’s killing you—because you love them so much that you feel like you’d be much happier seeing them together on date. Complicated, no? Long-story short, CHIUI GET A DATE PARA HINDI MAGUIGUILTY PARENTS MO!

Chiui is an exquisite girl who should be held by an equally exquisite guy who would treat her right. The one person whom the guy should impress the most is not Chiui, nor her parents, but God because God alone can tell if the one asking for His daughter’s hand is deserving of her. Chiui should date whomever God has chosen for her AND CHIUI SHALL NOT DECLINE. XD Lastly, Chiui deserves someone made from Crayola –someone who would bring infinite color and brilliance to her life, in a toxic-free way.

Happy Valentine's Day peoplessss.

Boarded.

2010-02-12T20:47:00.005+08:00

I think I might need to have my computer upgraded or I should just get a new computer perhaps. But with the recent rate at which I am spending matched with the depression of my savings, I don’t think a new computer seems near plausible. I’m trying to earn a bit to buy a new PSP before my parents find out I just lost mine. Fingers crossed.

Despite all the internal recession going on, I’m dying to get my hands on a Danboard. I know you guys might think this little dude is so last season, but for me he’s timeless. I’ve never been this in love with a toy since the Harry Potter action figures which came with a set of spells. But I’ll have to keep my love for Danbo subdued because recently Dawn’s gone major gaga over Danbo as well. I wanted to tell him to back off because Danbo was mine first, but I didn’t because I might break his faint, little heart. I’ve been Googling about possible outlets in the Philippines where I might get a Danbo, but unfortunately I wasn’t able to find one. There are three types of Danbo, I think. The Amazon version, The Seven-Eleven version, and the plain version. I definitely want the Seven-Eleven version because I haven’t seen a lot of it being used as subject in photos.

Meet Danbo!

Danbo (7-eleven version)

Danbo (Amazon Japan version)

I’ve been hearing some of my peers rave about Apple’s newest offering, the iPad. It’s actually been said to look like a blown up version of the iPhone, but I think it reminds me of the tablets FedEx couriers carry around and have you sign upon receiving a package –-only difference is that the iPad is slimmer by approximation. Practicality wise, I don’t think the iPad’s really the thing because it’s not as handy as the iPhone which inadvertently defeats its purpose of being a portable device. I looked up its dimensions and approximated it to be half the size of your average placemat and probably just the same as a large notebook (as in book with notes, not the laptop thingy). But hey, at least I’d still want to visit our Mac outlet, be acquainted with it and see the device for myself.

Here’s another toy that’s freakishly adorable: the ball jointed dolls. I swear these things look haunted if not prepped properly. Horror movies have done an amazing job trying to make these dolls look appalling enough that no parent in the right mind would decorate their little daughter’s room with these things staring your soul out of you.

But now these things are just so chic. It’s like Dakota Fanning actually; from being this great actress with big expressive eyes who played somewhat weird roles to this amazing actress with big expressive eyes who makes me feel a little lesbo and say “man, she’s pretty.”

Speaking of Dakota, check her out in her latest flick with K-Stew, The Runaways:

Man, she’s pretty. ;)

nonsense v non-sense

2010-01-31T21:22:00.003+08:00

Just recently, I’ve lost count of the many times I sat in front of the computer and tried very intensely to blog. It would take at least a 3-minute song until I can finally think of a good first liner, and then it would take probably about 10 more repeats of that song until I can finally get through my first paragraph. Today, I hit a record-breaker –one paragraph per one hour. Yay.

I’ve been microblogging though, for the heck of it, and realized that it has caused me inner turmoil rather than a well deserved peace of mind. And just when I thought I’ve been through enough psychological pain, on January 13, just barely a few days through 2010 I was separated from my PSP. It was a tragic event that would somehow change the course of my life forever. I’m a little overdramatic, I know, but I really do feel like my heart was stolen from me and it’s not in that cheesy, romantic sort of sense. I was caught off guard; I was utterly defenseless. I didn’t expect that I would lose it as easily as one could create a Google Mail account. We weren’t even able to say our goodbyes and hug things out. Even though I am against pointing my index finger at anyone, I firmly believe that my classmate is partly to blame for the entirety of my misery right now. But I don’t even have the slightest bit of interest to mention how she basically obliterated the remainder of my sanity, nor do I want to consider her as my friend for now. I try, like I always do, to move on.

It’s crazy when you can’t escape annoyance. School’s been treacherous, as usual. Despite the scars and the wounds and the dispatched hair, it’s a good thing I got through the exam week. The fact that the exams were quite easy pains me because I studied so hard on the very difficult aspects. It was easier when I didn’t study, because I would be able to save myself from all this regret and seriously fucked sleeping schedule. Last Tuesday I was literally rolling around in bed like fat spring rolls until I heard footsteps outside my room, then decided to shut my eyes because I thought ghosts wouldn’t bother me if I seemed deep in slumber. Pfft. Such a wuss, I know. Lesson learned: ~~don’t study for exams~~ ghosts are considerate enough to not wake up you up when you’re asleep. :)

---

Kuu: How do you torture a masochist?”
Me: Yeah?! How do you torture
someone who welcomes torment?
Aa: Tell him, “I will never, ever hurt you.”
Kuu: “NOOOOOO! HURT ME! HURT ME!”
Me: Ohmigosh LOL!

Right after I had that discourse with my older cousins, I noticed a medium-sized scab on my right leg. I was very much alarmed with its existence, especially because it’s already a scab and how could I have lived all this time unaware and unable to nurse it when it was still a fresh cut. I thought to myself, man I must be a hemophiliac. I’ve been wounding all my life that I’ve been immune to the sensation of pain. It reminded me so much of this brilliant Filipino writer, Bob Ong, whose words are now everyone’s life mottos and/or their rebuttal at times of conflicts. I find it funny when some of my friends use Bob Ong’s lines during daily conversations. Now I honestly think quoting novels make someone seem smarter and more logical But I think nothing pwns quoting Wiki –- there’s nothing more hardcore.

Know what, let's hit the red light. 2 unnervingly long hours have passed. I’ve been going down this twisted, tangled, serpentine road and at the very end of it I was still unable to capture in words the very image of you.

When I look at the skies, I could only wish.

These lights will inspire you

2010-01-17T19:50:00.001+08:00

My uncle’s helping me out with the retrieval of my driver’s license. As you can see, time is much more difficult to manage nowadays, especially with a schedule that limits you to only a one-hour breather. I told my uncle I’m already eighteen and therefore I am entitled to a full driver’s license. But my uncle insists on a student license, since I haven’t undergone any proper training prior eighteen.

But after days of waiting for chips to fall, I’m thinking… I’d rather not be at the back of the wheel.

When you drive you’re focused; you’re concentrated and it’s like blinking is not an option. You feel afraid to blink because you’re afraid you might miss several things, however insignificant they might be. You try to absorb all the things you pass by as fast as you can—trying to go faster than the km/hr speed you’re at—because you only get that one chance. Sometimes you cram; you try to get even just a gist of everything because you can’t look back and marvel at it again, whatever it may be. It’d be damn reckless of you to do so, don’t you think? Of course, you can always make a turn and head back to that specific place where you saw the object of your interest, but it would take time, it would take so much effort, and most importantly, when you revisit it the view might not be the same as when you first saw it.

I like being in the backseat mainly because I find comfort there, but those God forsaken public vehicles’ passenger seats are such a pain to my hind therefore the former is not a generalization. Main point: the view is better in the backseat. Probably I’m wrong about which view is better, but in the backseat you get to see everything. You are given the entitlement to grasp the view, to think about it, to input little insignificant details in your brain, and even imagine things upside-down. Even at a ten-meter distance you still see the same thing you saw minus that distance. You’re given enough time to gaze at it and enough time to keep it in your memory because like all the other things in life the view doesn’t stay in existence for far too long. It’s either the car takes a turn around the corner or you arrive at your destination and it’s finally time for a new view.

But I’m still persistent in getting the full license and becoming a designated driver because there’s always this sort of thrill in wondering what’s going to come at you in every turn. And when we think we’ve seen it all, life never fails to surprise us.

Hot potato

2009-12-31T10:34:00.003+08:00

I wasn’t very stressed with this year’s Christmas preparations because instead of doing the traditional midnight banquet, my parents’ decided to postpone the feast until morning which, in my mother and father’s case, is better because cooking throughout the night deprives them of the proper nine hours of sleep. I honestly don’t mind the change, because I’ve always found Christmas mornings in the US cute, especially when kids effortlessly wake up early, race down the stairs and scour for their presents under the Christmas tree. And I think it was simply magical when Scrooge woke up from a bad dream on Christmas morning and he suddenly feels brand new.

I pretty much enjoyed the idea until twelve midnight, when I was deciding whether I should watch Paranormal Activity alone or not, because my present caught glimmers of light, as if it was glowing in the half-lit living room and then singing to me. Maybe I was imagining those partly because I didn’t want to scare the shit out of myself with the whole Paranormal Activity shizz, but I had the yearning to shake the present while leaning my ear on it, and then rip the wrapper off without further adieu. But then I thought about Mom and how she specifically said we should open presents “TO-GE-THER”. And “TO-GE-THER” would have to wait ‘til morning. So I decided to hit the covers hoping that, despite my neighbor’s unsettling karaoke epic and fireworks doing their thing every .5 second, I would enjoy a good dream.

When I woke up I wanted to scream “IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING!” but my scoliosis decided to strike that day and I was overwhelmed by an incredible amount of back pain. So I was like, “good morn…n.” Anyway, I got a pretty sling bag with patent detail when I really, really, really wanted this Nike tote at a surprisingly reasonable price. I checked and found out that the sling bag was slightly more expensive than the tote, but I believe it’s the leather and the mature feel which the bag exudes that won my father over. He’s not the best shopper, but in his defense he said, and quote, “It’s the brand name you’re after, not the quality.”

***

I took the time off to spend the evening with one of the coolest guys in the world. Honestly, at first I was intimidated by his mere presence. His strikingly inquisitive squinting eyes would have me looking away in another direction in an instant. He just recently arrived from the US and he’s grown so much since the last time I saw him. Goofing around with him on Christmas evening was the best way I could think of top the day off. I could tell by the way that he hugs me or scoots closer to me when I sit on the stairs that he enjoys my company and I enjoy his, too, despite the fact that my year-long absence from his life could’ve made me a complete stranger to him.

But now I am rest assured that I will always be his Atchi.

By Plurking "hanging out with Stephen" friends assumed that I was dating, for lack of a better word, this boy. To all of you who had the same prejudgment, I hate to disappoint you. Stephen is my nephew and for the sake of easy retention let's rename him Potato because he loves to do the Hot Potato dance. Oh my I can’t get over how cute this little guy is. When he came back, I few days ago, I wanted to see him immediately but school was being bitchy and I couldn’t see him even on the weekends. Thank God for Jesus; Thank God for Christmas. I would like to give him a makeover and make him look like Taeyang ---complete with Mohawk and slick dress code to match.

Of course I know he’s too young for that, but at least there’s a plan. He’s also shown an interest in soccer and I got the chance to play with him. Please note that he’s not even two years old yet, but having achieved so much in such a short span makes Auntie so proud. :)

OH MY… before I almost forget HAPPY [belated] CHRISTMAS everyone and may you have a very prosperous new year. Drinks’ on the house. :p

THE 2009 CHRISTMAS WISHLIST

2009-12-11T19:14:00.004+08:00

Credit: watchprosite.com

Vacheron Constantin. My Anne Klein is dying. I think I’ve abused it to the point that it would rather not have itself attached to me. The scratches on the silver are really depressing. And I mean being-so-close-and-yet-so-far-to-Pen :) type of depressing. I’d also like a big watch for a change. The mechanical watch is really growing on me. I love the fact that you can see its insides and it doesn’t need batteries to operate. It reminds me of The Golden Compass… and Daniel Craig.

Photo credit: polyvore
Nike. Just because. And the metallic gold is sooooo bling bling!

Photo credit: Samsung UK

Samsung Jet. Self-explanatory.

Nokia N93. Even more self-explanatory.

Photo credit: dclstore
iPod Nano Video. I just realized it’s insanely cute. Ducky recently bought one and I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. I know it’s been around for quite some time, but I guess the iPod Nano Video and I aren’t exactly the best paradigm for love at first sight. I want mine in orange because I suddenly love all things orange… well except the orange stop light which, by the way, I’m not even sure is orange. Some say it’s actually yellow. Well I say it could possibly be brown that’s gone pale. I don’t know. I’m not really a huge fan of traffic lights so…

THIS KEYCHAIN. For the win!

WARNING: This could be a notch beyond GP.

2009-12-11T12:19:00.005+08:00

Yesterday, I had one of those insightful conversations with the dudes. They were fantasizing about girls, oblivious of the presence of one. We were at one of the school’s kiosk, and in the kiosk next to us was this supposedly pretty chick. I can’t really tell if she was pretty not just because she had her back to us, but because I’m not really a good judge of beauty. For me, everyone’s beautiful –it’s just that there’s tall and there’s short, there’s chubby and there’s skinny, there’s fair skinned and there’s dark skinned and the list goes on. So Dawn was eyeing the pretty chick (I’m gonna address her as a ‘he’ in this post for the very purpose of elucidating your confusion), and he was asking Ham if she knew her name. You see, Ham’s got excellent intel especially when the subject in argument is girl. But I sort of belittled his powers then because I thought he only knew the very obvious details like chick’s name, number, age, major, etcetera. I was so wrong.

Ham: Dude, she wears three-inch panties.
Dawn: No way!
Me: DAMN YOU! HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW THAT?!?!?!
Ham: *insert boisterous laughter* I have my ways. And dude… she’s an effer.
Dawn: Owwws?!
Me: …
Owen: Do you have any comments regarding this matter, T?
Me: *innocently shakes head*
Owen: What about her vital stats, man?
Dawn: *looks at me* You… hmmm… 30-40-50, I bet.

Dawn’s been very supportive of my weight, thank you very much. In the event that I may actually become skinnier than his pinkie, I think he might hate me forever.

Ham continued to talk about girls in a manner that wasn't really conventional, but... yeah, so modern-agely. But they kicked in humor of sorts and kept it a little under R-18 for my sake, which was a little insulting because I’m a year older than all of them and I believe I have sufficient knowledge about those things –thanks to The Simpsons, Family Guy, South Park, and Chelsea Handler. I bet they don’t even know what a coslopus is. ;)

I love how there are no walls among the boys; how they are always so confident to say whatever it is they feel like saying, without holding their tongue outs regrettably and trying to take back their words. Well maybe sometimes they do but often times it runs along the lines of I love you’s and goodbyes. But for a girl, no matter how she plays her cards, no matter how long she’s been immune to their company, no matter how hard she tries to resist, she still ends up falling in love for one of them.

No you; no magic

2009-11-30T13:43:00.010+08:00

November 27—I was supposed to write an overwhelmingly long rant about how SHINee stopped by the Philippines and damnitt I wasn’t there. But I realized I’ve made the same epic monologues one too many times (with artist other than SHINee) so I decided to ctrl+a and hit delete.

I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with my babies while listening to a 10-track playlist filled with mom’s depressing songs (technically it’s not depressing, but the fact that I don’t like the songs make it depressing enough).

I started boring myself playing PACMAN on the Nintendo Gameboy. It’s so old school, I know. I swear the PSP was a little taken aback by my preference. Then Booger took the Gameboy away from me.

Don’t worry. He’s not really as obnoxious as his name suggests.

While I was sniffing around for my pair of slippers, I saw Raffy wearing it. When I borrowed it from him, he suddenly shied away.

He’s always been so bashful. I should’ve named him that, but then again I didn’t want to worsen his self esteem issues.

There’s this study that says animals can feel the emotions their favorite humans are feeling. I realized its true every time Bubba comes running and shoves this bandage at my feet when I’m feeling somewhat broken.

Then Mitu followed Bubba’s lead and hands me another Snoopy bandage, in case one isn’t enough.

Mitu always wins me over by her sweet gestures. It makes me forget that Dawn was the one who gave me Mitu 5 years back. It was the worse Christmas cringle everrrr (because Dawn was such an ass), but Mitu’s managed to make up for Dawn’s horribleness.

I started to think what if I was actually able to attend the KPOP Convetion, and Jonghyun felt a connection when he saw me cheering for him on the sidelines. What if our worlds would intertwine by then? It would be like I owned all the stars in the heavens–him included.

Mitu interrupted my fascination by saying “Ma, look at my butt!” So I did, and snagged a candid.

Here are a couple of my attempts to take a decent photo of Raffy.

And then it was time for bed.

So, I watched New Moon...

2009-11-22T09:08:00.003+08:00

I don't care what they say...

I'M FRICKIN' IN LOVE WITH TAYLOR LAUTNER, although his nose is pretty weird.

Can you believe he's still seventeen (in real life)?

i think i'm in love :)

2009-11-20T11:05:00.002+08:00

The rain just now has stopped
The smell of asphalt is floating around the city
Hey, over there too, the weather is fine already right?
For the weather has cleared up from the west
Since you’re not a morning person
Everyday, will you be able to wake up properly?
I’m still worried about things like that

The spreading sky, the freedom
Although neither of them has changed
Right now, just that… it’s only just that you are not by my side

Let me hear your voice
If we become honest, surely
We’ll be able to understand each other
Please open your heart
Let me hear your voice
The path we have come is, for us, definitely
An important step to that future

The first time I met you was
Around this season right?
The light up street was
Glowing beautifully
The crybaby-you, from that time on, often
Laid your forehead on my shoulder
You were crying right? That extreme warmth
From your touch on my shoulder

Everyone lives, carrying his own worry
Desperately holding his broken heart

Let me hear you voice
If we become more kind
We’ll be able to love each other
Don’t avert my eyes
Let me hear your voice
Let’s get over those entwined anxieties and loneliness
The feelings of this moment become our bond

Yeah, since you went away hasn’t been the same
In my heart all I got is pain
Could it be that I played a game to lose you, I can’t maintain
Sunlight moonlight you lit my life realize in the night
While love shines bright
Cant let you go we’re meant forever baby, let me know

This past without you, can’t forget you
Letting me be the cloud hanging above me
Raining on me missing you touch
Nights get long and it’s hard to clutch
We’re apart breaks my heart
Its all for the best girl you’re my world
In time my love unfurls
He will then wait for you girl

Let me hear your voice
If we become honest, surely
We’ll be able to understand each other
Please open your heart
Let me hear your voice
The path we have come is, for us, surely
An important step to that future

Title: 声をきかせて (Let Me Hear Your Voice)
Artist: BIGBANG

move fast!

2009-11-16T21:57:00.003+08:00

The second semester of freshman year started with Therese wandering aimlessly around campus, without a hint of idea about where to go for her first class. Okay, ‘nuf with the third person conversation. But yeah, I was walking in circles until my friends found me and pulled me out my misery. We were able to find our way to our designated classroom, thankfully, but I thought the professor himself (or herself, I didn’t know at the time) was also lost in space when, after 30 minutes of absence, he failed to show up. The same thing happened to the rest of our professors, except for Ms. Statistics who showed up at the very last minute. It annoys me sometimes when I come to class, early and well prepared to take on whatever task there is, but the professor bails on me. Sure, it’s always fun to spend the rest of the time however we wish, but I would really appreciate a sort of memorandum so that I may be able to plan my day beforehand and not worry about being late to the point that I could hardly catch a breath and comb my hair.

I am obsessed with my hair. I had no idea Puma and Dawn’s disease was contagious. For guys (no wait---Dawn is a girl), those two spend excessive hours doing their hair; oftentimes the result is knockoff of intricate anime hairstyles or something that’s influenced by Super Junior. On very, very rare occasions, Puma allows people he knows to touch his hair. Note that you need VIP access to touch a single strand of hair. He’s very restrictive, like that. The same directive applied to Dawn’s crowning glory, which, by the way, is spoilt with expensive haircuts and hair products. But recently she’s allowing people to stroke her mane, with the condition that you don’t mess her do. Should you cross the line and purposely ravage her most treasured possession, you’ll receive an F4 RED CARD which I just found out she keeps in one of the compartments in her binder. Seriously. There exists a red card in her possession. You have no idea how hard I laughed when someone accidentally discovered that card hidden under her notes. So after the digression about the topic of my hair, yeah I’m obsessed with it. I’m thinking about getting it fixed because all the curling madness during prom sorta damaged it. I just got my haircut from this Korean hair salon, and the hairstylist wasn’t kidding when she said the style I chose needed maintenance. Now I’m flipping out over mismanaged sections. And the bangs need to be sweat-free, and it was stupid of me to forget that the country I live in is incredibly hot which makes me sweat too much. So yeah, sometimes my bangs are mistaken for a patch of flattened hairballs. I wonder how Puma and Dawn keep their hairstyle intact like that. It’s probably the red card… that thing must have some sort of magic. Works for this guy.

***Because Dawn is supposedly Ji Hoo in their class' version of F4. (And Dawn always looks as stoopid as this :))

Last Saturday, I watched 2012 with a couple of my high school friends. This isn’t an Adam Sandler produced comedy film, obviously, but for some reasons I found myself laughing and giggling even during scenes where the ground almost ate the lead actor.

SCENE I

Me: *handing Dean peanuts*
Dean: Thanks. *munching on peanuts*
Wow! These taste exactly like peanut butter

It was a great movie by the way. I’ve never jumped up and down my seat like that ever before.

This is something I've been working on Min’s birthday present to the maximum. It's definitely Taemin-filled because she’s in love with this man and, yes, we actually stalk people who look exactly like him so if you’re a dude and you don’t want to be stalked by us, then please STOP grooming yourself like Taemin! Because it drives us crazy, especially Min, who left town because she could no longer bear seeing all the Taemin knockoffs around campus.

click for big.

And yes, I'm starting my 2009 Christmas Wishlist.

I'm still here writing awful love songs for you.

2009-11-07T17:51:00.002+08:00

The first semester of freshman year ended with me singing my heart out to You’ve Got a Friend. I swear the chocolate cake Aki had me devour had intoxicating thingies in it because, surprisingly, I did not hold anything back during our noraebang bonanza. During the “I’ll be there, yeah…” part, I was embracing Lis and fake-wept on her shoulder and went “Phaaak. I’ll miss you guys so maaaatch!” Come to think, I think I could be a pretty awesome singer someday… someone as theatrical as Lady Gaga hey.

During the first week of the break, I caught up with the exes in a pool party. Booty people were there and hilarious things happened. I couldn’t extract much from my memory of that day except for Kang’s ultra horrible bad breath. Oh, Jazz Hands was, regrettably, missing in action. I do have stories to share but believe time is of the essence, so…

***

The three days of enrollment was like my very own suicide mission. I could no longer stand waiting in long queues of people with all the smells in the world combined. It was a relief I didn’t pass out in the middle of the heat and horrible rants of people with not a surge of patience. There was also this one chick who had LOSER spray-painted on her sweaty forehead. See, my friend had this friend who had friends at the Registrar’s Office. So, my friend’s friend voluntarily went to get my friend’s list of grades. In a short while she was able to produce a copy of my friend’s grades so my friend no longer needed to wait in line. Then the loser chick started complaining yada yada yada, consistently uttering “unfair.” PFFFT. It’s not like my friend asked for it; her friend just willingly offered her services out of nowhere. That’s what friends do. Some people just walk out of the light, ya know. And unfortunately for that loser chick, no matter how hard she tried and no matter how hard she complained, she remained in the dark with a slight chance of progress… and was stuck in a line that only moved 5 inches an hour. My line? We ran on DSL. Her line? Old school dial-up connection.

My grades turned out great, by the way, but I was severely devastated with the one subject that I studied so hard for and yet I only managed to get a final grade of B-, the lowest I have so far. I am never usually so particular with marks, but for this one I could tirelessly rant for days because I know I deserve a little more credit than I have been given. I need not explain myself here because it is a little too late for that.

For the second semester, I have so much to complain about my lousy schedule. I have too much vacant periods! Waiting, for me, is a form of torture. And my gahd, when I arrive home and get to rest my behind on a comfortable couch, it’ll be brawl to have me get up and get off. There’s not going to be a TGIF for me this year. You see, I’d have to wait for 5 fucking hours until my next class. Sure, those free hours will come in handy when I need to do an assignment I forgot to finish during the previous night, but I’m not always the person who fares well in times of haste. And I’m sort of trying this thing where I HAVE TO finish all my work before another day at school commences. Believe me, cramming is never the best resort. Min will be laughing at me if she knows about this. Speaking of the devil, damn her! She transferred to another university leaving all the fangirl mess we made for me to clean up. When she comes back here I’ll show her how much I know about kung fu.

I very nearly had the chance to be roomed together with Dawn for Religious Studies. At first I thought it’d be a good idea to have a very familiar face around in one of my classes, but then I remembered how playful verging on annoying that girl can be; it could be difficult to concentrate. And of all our common modules, why did it have to be RELIGIOUS STUDIES and she’s considerably one of the most wicked people I know?

Dawn: Do you have any subjects in XC?
Me: English and PE.
Dawn: Aww. I’m in section XC for RS.
Me: Oh. I’m in XA for RS.
Dawn: Fuck.

Her and I in the same class = epic failure!

Lastly, looky here:

Joel Madden with a pirated copy of their concert during his trip to the Philippines. LMAO.

green light

2009-10-01T21:36:00.004+08:00

생일축하합니다!

2009-10-01T20:35:00.001+08:00

Hello Earth! This freedom is temporary. Savor it while you can.

I think I was a little pissed off today because school sucked all the world’s awesomeness. When the clock struck 12 on the first October, I was frantically scanning my biology textbook and notebook, and scribbling outlines for our semifinal exam scheduled a few hours after. I was feasting on a bag of cookies when I realised whose day it is. I basically raced against myself towards mirror and checked for any signs of wrinkles and skin aging. Then I turned 18. And it was like… wow.

I sort of spent the wee hours of the morning thinking about how cruel my biology professor could be for mercilessly unleashing her wrath on my birthday. I never did her wrong. I’m one of her most attentive students. I laughed at her bagful-of-corn jokes. I diligently answered her take home exams without snagging answers from my peers. How could she do this to me? I wish college students had the same privileges as kindergarten pupils because in kindergarten, birthday celebrants get to have the day off and are given the chance to throw a mini party inside the classroom. On my sixth birthday I brought my toys to school instead of books and my teacher never scolded me for that. I wonder how the scenario would fare in college. Mom pops in with a birthday cake; a mascot stands behind her, waving rather eagerly; KPOP kids sing me Happy Birthday in Korean; we all eat cake together; ICING FIGHT; exam postponed; I save the say; everyone’s happy.

Wait. There’s more. After the exam, we had a brief group consultation for our community work. I had no problems with the consultation. I think we did greatly. But after the consultation I was reminded of an oral exam in the afternoon and, you guessed right, I haven’t studied for it yet. If you’re a straight-A Dean’s Lister and ROFLing at my being such a failure, then shoot me for being so flawed. SO, I cut math class miserably wishing for a time to study for the oral exam.

After the oral exam, which was surprisingly such a breeze I had to render my services to the school. It’s a scholarship thing. Boo. And by 6 I had forgotten that I needed to buy booz and pizza for the 9 o’clock festivity. I was officially born on this time of day.

[/edit]

Can I have a cheese burger with no cheese?

2009-08-21T19:21:00.003+08:00

I AM STARVING. There's a piece of cake in the fridge and a chocolate bar, too. But I am not enticed by those. I want to eat pesto. I don't know if Le Cirque serves pesto. I should ask Gloria about that. I am certain she's familiarized herself with the menu of one of the most expensive restaurants in NY.

FOOK HER. How in the world did she forget to invite me, and the other 1 GAZILLION people of her country, to her fabulous fine dining extravaganza? While I, and the other 1 GAZILLION people of her country, try to hork what available food there is down my throat as a result of a suffering economy that needs a miracle to survive, she and her 'entourage' wine and dine at prestigious NY restaurants. Of the three rumored dinners, the Le Cirque experience costed our country someone $20000. That's just about enough to finance a house for the homeless and less fortuanate. The $20000 was said to have been covered by some congressman. Question is, where the hell did he get all that moolah? If he really did have plentiful moolah, he should've just donated that to a much better cause; something lightyears better than feeding a well feed politician's stomach.

Hold on, let me put my two cents in it. What was G's purpose of meeting with one of the most powerful presidents in the world? Trying to engage in business, right? Find a good investments which she thinks would work for the betterment of the country and the people. In simpler words she was asking for help because we are in dire need of it. Our economy's faltering; the employment rate is going down; the poverty rate is increasing almost exponentially. Now, which dufus would believe that she needed help if she (or the congressman or who else is involved with paying the bill) could pretty much afford a meal, not just for herself, but for her 20 something pals as well, without fuss and whatnot? How will that act ever coincide and support the truth of the economical downturrn that our country is facing. What in the world was she thinking? What image was she trying to portray? Gosh, dude --lead by example. And someone reasoned it was degrading for a president to eat at McDonalds. Shibal! Barack Obama waited in line for a burger!!!!!!!!!!! Was he put to shame or stoned to death just because he was incredibly practical and burger-loving?

Second, think: mother's intuition. When my mom and dad go out, they always think about us, the kids. Even when they're insanely hungry after going around grabbing groceries, they try to suck the hunger in a little longer. They don't eat out, they do take outs. As parents, the welfare of their kids is tattoed on their minds. They don't eat out at some pretty amazing restaurant while my sister and I feed on leftovers or whatever food is left in the fridge. They simply order take out, and eat at home with us, or they call us up and tell us to catch up at the restaurant. Gloria should've thought of that while she ate. She should've thought about the millions of people in her country that were left cold while she drank a bazillion's worth of red wine. She should've just choked and felt the guilt run through her veins.

Lastly, why isn't ANYBODY answering phone calls? Pfft. Eat fugly shit you... you... arrrrrgh.

After posting this, I am going to step down from my computer throne, but I am not stepping down from the fight against bogus leaders.

오랜만이다!!!

2009-08-17T02:49:00.008+08:00

What is common sense? Is this "common sense" common amongst all people? Is this common sense acceptable by all, or are they true to some but only forcefully accepted by most. Whatever it is, apparently to Dawn, Bee and I do no posses the same brand.

While Bee thinks it would be best for us to fetch Dawn on the upper level of the mall, Shawty thinks otherwise. He escalators down, see, while Bee and I are only 4 flights from reaching the second floor. Bee and I sigh as we escalator our to the first floor again while Shawty motions to get on the other escalator to meet us on the second floor. Our fault: we tend to assume that common sense is a common thing. Shawty's fault: he's just so devastatingly annoying.

Shawty's too cute he's immediately forgiven albeit there were several times wherein Bee and I would blame him for our ankle sprains. We may not have the common sense, but at least I am certain that Shawty, Bee and I have learned how to compromise and savor its advantages; and we've learned how to value our friendship beyond the limiting oppurtunities and circumstances were are currently endowed with.

Everyone's busy with college life --no wait, make that college becuase it seems to me that everyone's so consumed with school they could almost forget that they even have a life. I don't know how my 'college' is right now. Certainly it's not well, what with the constant late nigh/early morning studying and then a near death experience instigated by association to a classmate who cheats off my work. You know how many times the professor tried to call that person's attention while he/she was glancing on my paper? Probably 8 times. And you know how many times he/she ignored the warning sign? EVERY FREAKING TIME. I don't know what the professor thinks of me right now --she's probably contemplating on whether to give me a failing mark for behavior or she could just fail me straight up. And if ever that happens I swear that cheating son of a person will never see the light again. I am not excluding myself from this whole cheating thing --I have done some cheating in my life, but only because there was a mass cheating going on and I felt safe. We cheated in high school but we didn't get caught and if ever we did we made sure the proctoring teacher was okay with it. If you wish to play the game, follow the golden rule: never get caught.

So yes, everyone's busy with college.

I am finally done with midterms, but I am not yet done praying for the souls of my grades. I honestly envy my classmates who don't need to pressure themselves to get a grade higher than C. I, on the other hand, start to flip out at the very sight of a B-. I go, "I'M GOING TO FUCKING LOSE MY SCHOLARSHIP...and die." I know. I am always so full of strange predictions of doom that almost every line of mine ends in a softly spoken "...and die." I have never been a nerd but because of this scholarship thing I am driven to become one. Studying for me is not an option --not something that needs any more contemplation. It has to be done --no but's, no if's, no excuses, no shit. But I love to defy what's supposed to be. I am confident that the math result will cause me to go into seizure. This may be my last post for this lifetime. Bwahaha.

To relieve me from all the midterm stress, I went on one major spazzing spree. Kyaaa~ I am happy to inform you that the most played songs on my soap are mostly from the KPOP genre. And I remember that time at the mall when Shawty taught me the footwork. I am nearly regretting having dismissed K-Pop long ago. SRSLY. So infectious and cute are they, do you not think?

O-M-Gee-Gee-Gee OH YEAH! :)

Never in my entire life have I ever wished for the company of a boyfriend. Whoops. It's the hormones kicking in, alright. Naw, kidding. It's just that my sister has this bag full of suitors and my mother's like, "You can't have a boyfriend until your sister has one." Now I'm the one to be blame for my sister's dysfunctional love life?

Well, there's this boy that I maaaaay like. Know why? Well, he frickin owns a frickin Blackberry. You know how the "what's yours is mine" line goes, right? See, I don't have a cell right now. Bada bing, bada boom! It was also rumored that he has wheels (and I don't mean he's paralysed and sitting on a wheelchair). Before all of this sounds too good to be true, he has a girlfriend --steady, been dating since idk when; I can't compete, and I'm not a huge fan of homewreckers. Sad to say I can't inherit his Blackberry through binding of heartstrings.

God I miss blogging!

i couldn't think of a title so...

2009-07-15T18:21:00.000+08:00

Where was I when Hannah Montana was finally in Philippine cinemas? Shackled on a chair, trying to figure out a way to copy-paste the process of the Calvin Cycle into my prototype-sized brain and then occasionally wiping a tear from my eye because I’ve waited far too long for Hannah and now that it’s here I don’t have the time. Time, my friends, is a luxury I am too destitute to afford.

Life’s a bitch.

I have detached myself from the clique I was previously in mostly because I do no wish to be labeled with another stereotype. Know why? Lately, girl bands have done nothing but stain my reputation. And my reputation used to be at its awesomesttttt. What’s funny is that the result of my psychological exam coincided with my willing expulsion from girl band involvements. According to the psychological exam I took, albeit my being a group-oriented person, I am reserved; an introvert and I tend to shy away from the world. I am a bit skeptical and am quite observant. I couldn’t find ease at expressing myself which leads to keeping my thoughts to myself, but even so I keep an open mind and I welcome all sorts of ideas other than my own.

Where did the funny, happy-go-lucky, socially active Therese go?

Well, I guess the abovementioned assessment bears truth, but I am not an emotional loner who enjoys slitting both wrists with Gillette –another stereotype up my ass.

On lighter things, I seriously think J looked prettiest today, as well as all the other days of the week. Her skin was a radiant yellowish white and she had long shiny black hair (which, btw, poned mine). She was wearing a pretty skirt and blouse number –far too different from her ragged, jogging pants and shirt number on Wednesdays. S looked so polished, I swear I heard the other girls’ hearts drop --they both looked like they were going to attend a wedding ceremony. And I sat there, awestricken, wishing the assumed wedding ceremony was their own. They’re the cutest real-life couple I’ve ever lived to see (and I mean that!) made all the more cute by the fact that the boy once joked that the girl was his mother and then he took it back by saying “No, she’s my girlfriend.” And he said it with such conviction and unquestionable truth that the other girls finally waved the flag of truce. It was like seeing love in its purest, realest form.

Man, I’m such a geek!

Despite biology’s strong ability to sedate me, I still wish to attend to it. This is the closest thing to Biochemistry that I can have for now. I have to run.

Condolences.

2009-07-08T04:19:00.004+08:00

I woke up at 3AM with the sole intention of studying for a big quiz later today. I found the still silence ear-shattering so I immediately turned the TV on and scanned the channels for a while. Once in a blue moon, television channels air the same live broadcast of a certain event. It happens ever so rarely, and it is reserved for very important events only. Today, half way across the globe, the Jackson family and legions of fans are gathered together to take part in Michael Jackson's memorial service. I watched it, of course, at intervals with my studying.

I realized it was actually hard for me to suck up Michael Jackson's death. The autopsy took too long and instead of respecting the solemnity of mourning his death, some people were focusing much on his downfalls --the debts he was still unable to pay, the custody battle over his kids that still remained unresolved and the like. Could you guys just give the dude a break? Uggh. I feel like killing people. Mwahaha.

Okay, so I was tearing up a bit while watching the live memorial service on TV. *Sigh*

He is forever invincible, untouchable, irreplaceable. Michael will forever dominate a spot in our hearts.

You shall be missed Michael.

PFFFT.

2009-07-04T13:59:00.002+08:00

Let’s cut the chase; I forgot about the 10000000000-page assignment in Filipino, and all 10000000000 pages were due today. I was probably on the ultimate reckless high because last night I kept thinking about my classes for the following day and kept repeating it so much to the point that I finally was able to make a pattern out of it. FEMP, as in, FFP-English-math-PE. If FEMP was a real word, it must mean “the act of rejecting Filipino out of your thoughts because it either annoys you or just not that into it”. My mind has its own brain.

So, for the first time in my entire seventeen years on this blue planet, I cut class; I cut my English class. It was a great risk I had to take. That stupid Filipino assignment costs me 150 FUCKING POINTS! What was I supposed to do? Smile at my teacher and say “Oh, my brain’s anorexic in a way that it’s vomiting out everything that has to do with your subject.” Don’t you think it’s stupid that I have to purposely misspell words because that’s apparently how they’re conveyed in Filipino? Like the word ‘variety’ –in Filipino we spell it as ‘barayti’. Why can’t we just respect the original orthography or use an actual Filipino word that corresponds to ‘variety’. In the future I’m not gonna write “I have developed in me a barayti of characteristics…” in my resume. So fucking stupid.

I missed an essay in English; I was forced to pass my Filipino assignment unfinished because the teacher decided that today she wanted to show concern regarding proper time of dismissal! HALLELUJAH! She was like, “Hurry! Hurry! We don’t have much time. We only have 30 minutes left.” And I was like, “Eh? You have a functional watch now?” Because she usually dismisses us 10 minutes AFTER the supposed limit, we have to basically run towards the other building to catch up with the next subject. Urggh.

I got a fucking B- in PE today. Why? Because some chick wanted to command control over us and ended up failing us all. I was honestly pissed at her because she asked us for opinions about the dance routine we were to perform. I told her we needed to add a few more steps because the routine they created aced redundancy. Since she asked for it, I gave her my steps but later on she said we wouldn’t incorporate my steps into the routine because they seemed funny. In my head I was like “GAAAH! People want funneeh! They enjoy funneeeh!” I let her be. Soon enough I couldn’t take the boringness and lackluster of the routine so I started devising less funny, more intricate dance moves, but they said “we’ll just use the really easy steps” so I didn’t bother showing it to them. SOOOOOOO, because we were using the same “16-counts” steps over and over and over again for 30 damn long minutes, we were awarded with a B MINUS and a dismayed look from Commander-Chick-in-Chief. She hates me.

Fuck. I just remembered I got TWO amazing B minuses in PE today. Note that that doesn’t even include my downfall in Filipino.

I hung out with Min and Cola at the mall right after PE. I was still so discouraged and annoyed, I didn’t want to go home and explode in front of my parents again. I was asking Min a question and when she replied she sounded like she was talking in Korean.

“WTF did you just say?”
“Koro godida shi ah men yo choro de?”
“Fuuuuck. You just sounded like…”
“wa?” – Cola inserts.

In the middle of our fake Korean conversation, some dudes behind us started talking in what sounded like Korean, and I thought he was just some jaded dude mimicking our foolishness for amusement. You have no idea how embarrassed I felt when I turned around, saw the dudes and realized that they were actually Koreans! And they weren’t mimicking our fake Korean obviously. The talking dude was, well, talking to someone over his phone and the other dude was silently staring at us and probably giggling a bit at our mega flabbergasted expressions. Min, Cola and I had a mighty good laugh about it and we completely swore to avoid ever bumping into those dudes in the mall again.

The purpose of Cola and I’s visit to the mall was actually assignment-related; we planned to have our ID’s laminated but unfortunately EVERY laminating machine was out of order. If humans have the H1N1, laminating machines probably have their own pandemic to worry about as well. We went home with an unfulfilled purpose.

GOT A DATE?

2009-06-30T15:03:00.000+08:00

Last night I hung out with Kale. I know, right?! I’m just as surprised as you are. Let’s just say our paths crossed again and we could not deny ourselves the opportunity of catching up with each other’s lives. So, yes –we hung out.

We continued walking around in a pace that did not challenge my already weary feet. I was tired, but I didn’t really let it show. The moonlight made his silver highlight sparkle and I told him that probably bits of aluminum foil were still stuck in his hair. He physically morphed into someone brand new and had he not mentioned my name in his usual creepy voice the moment we bumped into each other, I wouldn’t have noticed it was him.

Then all of a sudden things got dicey and it started to rain.

We were joking around but at one point we felt that our egos were pushed and trampled on. He started talking with a thick smear of sarcasm and I instinctively grew defensive and retaliated by means of talking smack in his face. No yelling was involved; we were fighting in a mid-volume, refined, queer kind of way that even the people on the street looked at us, looked away, and looked back at us with increased interest.

I pushed him aside with great force and walk away quickly. My feet wandered about with not a hint of idea where it’s going. I stopped when I thought I have managed to walk enough meters away from Kale. I walked enough alright because on the corner where I halted there was a great deal of emptiness and moisture on the pavement. There was a reason behind the emptiness of the area: a huge wall stopped the continuity of the road; it was a dead end.

A few seconds after I sucked up my stupidity, there was a consequent thud on the ground. It grew louder and nearer with every thud. A bright light beamed above the massive wall and a somewhat motorized, mechanical sound was heard. The wall suddenly crashed when what seemed to be a bulldozer hit it. After coughing, going “WTF!” and waiting for the cloud of dust to disperse, I clearly saw an image of Jazz and a black Chevrolet Camaro with Shia LaBeouf leaning his elbow on top of the car.

“Stop getting into so much trouble. Time will come when I might not be able to save you anymore.”
“Who said I needed you to save me?”

…

DRAT! Then the alarm rang. Stupid 7:30 AM class schedule. And my ring alarm? New Divide. What a dork.

Don't let me go.

2009-06-29T21:02:00.005+08:00

Listen to me:

Cover your ears. Gently place your hands on your ears and pretend to hear only the pulse in your veins. Close your eyes. Simply shut it, have your eyelids rest, and visualize an image of a boy… a boy of such bravery, commitment and charisma that even alien robots a bazillion times more powerful than him are under his command. Picture him… just picture him… caressing your hair and kissing it gently with lips coated daily with Chapstick and twinkie bars. Feel his hand locking with yours; feel the warmth radiate from his skin of Swahili tone. Don’t ever let go. You are in that moment now; you are with him and you are in love. Cover your ears. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and hear me...

OMFGWHATWASTHATSHIALABEOUFISSODAMNHOTICOULDEATHIMRIGHTNOWWWW.

*Hyperventilates*

You heard me right. I just watched Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen yesterday, thanks to Uncurly for the treat. I strongly believed that the movie lacked a sense of rich story-telling but the CGI was fucking amazing I blurred out every bit of negativity in a heartbeat.

I won't spoil your movie viewing if you haven't watched the movie. GO SEE TROTF!!!

[Old photo; couldn't find the one I was looking for.]

NOTE TO SHIA AND MEGAN: You guys should date already! Do not go around playing with skinny models anymore, Shia. The only make you unable to prop your fist. SRSLY. You two could be like, Angelina and Brad minus the young congregation of nations and the Jennifer Aniston disturbance.

Laments of a freshman

2009-06-27T16:55:00.005+08:00

For freshmen out there I bet you too are striving hard to comply with all the requirements your professors or instructors shove at you, not just because you’re a straight-A’s nerd like that, but simply because you are not yet familiar with the way they play the game. You tend to think too much; you tend to worry too much all for the love of being shielded from shame.

These past few days, my mom’s been very proud for I have been going home at too early for the given curfew, studying almost nightly and waking up early in the morning to review my work. But I hate it when my efforts end up with zero results and a fucking back ache. Take for instance biology; I’ve always found biology enjoyable –heck, I almost aced my environmental science exam during my first year in high school. But oh how the foreign students took pride with bursting my bubble. Man, these kids? They don’t wear thick rectangular eye glasses just for the sake of looking cool and adorkable. I don’t blame A and H for having the first and last laughs every time we younger Flips get paranoid when we don’t see the correct specimen on the microscope. I will be first to admit that I am bad when it comes to laboratory work –especially when it has been a year since I last toyed with an apparatus. Sometimes I just wonder if A and H are really that condescending or if they’re just misunderstood like most foreigners; and when they laugh it means they're purely amused, not go oh-god-their-so-fucking-stupid-I'm-gonna-laugh-at-them-ha-ha-ha. And you can obviously see how much the teacher favors them. She looks so fascinated with them I feel like any minute now she's going to pull an Angelina and adopt them and raise them along with her other foreign collectibles. But anyway, I just let them be. After all, my (and I say that with much conviction just so they know who's territory this is. Ha!) country is a free country.

With PE, our instructor was crazy scary during our first meeting --so scary that I had to run to my ex-classmates house and ask him to lend me his jogging pants because I didn't want the PE instructor to scold me for not having any pants on. No pants because he specifically said "wear sports attire" --at least I know for sure gymnasts wear panties as their sports attire. Better that than receiving a one-hour sermon about how denim pants are not to be used as sports attire because they make your down-under hurt like a bitch when you cartwheel. SRSLY! I very nearly considered the undies-for-PE campaign.

Despite my efforts to keep up with the demands of college I still managed to get 5 out 10 on a quiz (I studied a week ago, but then forgot about what I had read), forget a very important research, and receive a crazyass sermon for missing out on the abovementioned research.

BEST FRIENDS NO MORE

2009-06-27T13:35:00.001+08:00

TEACHER: This here is a sperm cell. *pointing at the image*

OCHI: OHMIGOSH! It’s a freakinnnn’ sperm cell. That’s me—before!

TEACHER: *surprisingly, the teacher agrees* Yes. *laughs* I think you know the process of your creation. The sperm cell that you see in picture is just one of the bazillions of sperms that is found in your bodaaay. A single sperm cell will reach an egg cell, they become united and tada --thus, your existence.

OCHI: Seriously? Just one? What if two sperm cells miraculously reach the egg cell at the same time? And I mean, it’s a really close match between two sperms? *Rob emphasizes “close match” by moving his left and right index fingers forward and backward alternately.

TEACHER: *laughs* That’s impossible. The fight to win the egg cell is an exacting task for the sperm cells as there are “obstacles” they have to overcome. Some sperms go through another path; some sperms get blocked by others…

OCHI: What if the two sperms cells are sorta like best friends -–inseparable, like two peas in a pod. It’s like, ‘ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind’. *Rob puts his hands together (in a sort of praying position) and place it above his head and imitates the swimming-like movement of the sperm cell (imagine: someone pretending to be a shark in the pool)*

TEACHER: No –hahaha. *pauses for a while; tries to restrain laugh* HAHAHAHA. *fails to restrain laugh* That’s really not possible. If a sperm cell wins, all the other sperms die.

OCHI: As in? I WON! I WON! *flails hands in the air, claiming his own victory*

FOREIGN STUDENTS: *nudging each other; epitasis*

:)

2009-06-17T22:58:00.010+08:00

Edited these myself; Googled the original copy of the images.

This is not stalking. This is not obsessing. It's love.

Sorry, I forgot that other dude. :) Grab if you wish.

i survived!

2009-06-17T22:01:00.007+08:00

No, I did not just arrived from a karaoke extravaganza with a couple of crazy people. I just arrived from my second day of college. :)

I think I was part asleep, part nauseous, part dying but hardly anywhere near completely, overwhelmingly entertained (i.e. HAPPY). I still feel like it's the summer and I'm only going to school to attend summer refreshment courses or get something signed or just hang out with some people.

How come I hardly remember anything from the past two months of my life. Where was I? WHERE WAS I? Did I suddenly acquire amnesia overnight? The only three things I could remember from the "summer" were red wine, Ronaldo and pudding pie --and their not even the slightest bit related. Can we go back and rewind? PLEASE?

???

So, I've managed to include myself in what seems to be a band of chicks. OH GOD. Why am I always stuck with the female specimen? Yes, I am complaining. My dog's a bitch. My cat's a feline. My goldfish's a twit. My sister's a girl. My high school clique? ALL GIRLS... well, except for the latest addition. BUT STILL.

Classes were fine, I guess. College teachers were surprisingly entertaining and I haven't met one that's worthy of violent reactions. Some classes were just incredibly boring. And I mean incredibly.

This isn't where I am wanna be right now.

You know where I wanna be?

I wanna be in a place where it's cold; where it's the summer but yet there's still snow. I wanna be in a place where people don't know who I am; where I don't know any of them; where neither of us knows other. I wanna frolic in prairies barefoot and share a wonderful picnic with someone special right after. I wanna see a perfectly displayed sunset, and embrace life and forget about thoughts of pain. I want to hear a boy sing a song --his voice crystal clear, enchanting and beautiful. I want to sit on a high stool, cheering for kids who're playing beach soccer. I want to punch someone in the face and ask that person to punch me back. Then maybe, just maybe, I might get a clear understanding of the circumstances and probably figure out a remedy or two.

But that's not my position right now... and it probably will never be even in the far distant future.

I think I am growing a bit sensitive and sentimental. It's like, I want to be alone all the time and yet I also want to be surrounded by the laughs of people, but apparently the people I kind of feel I need to be with are not those who are already in my company --not even Panda and Leigh. I'm sorry, but yes that what's I feel. And my feelings are screaming for me to pay attention to them instead of trying to understand those of others. There is something wrong with me and I need to find out why.

My recent blog posts major in redundancy and lacking substance. Forgive me. I think my brain is dying.

Any advices?

5 hours

2009-06-15T03:17:00.005+08:00

Mother has given me due permission to use the computer overnight and the reason for her "kind deed" is that she asked me to download a couple of Korean songs which neither of us has the power to translate to English. And because I am stuck with a lousy internet connection, I have to give up my position on the comfy queen-sized bed just to lounge on an annoyingly uncomfortable computer chair, waiting for the downloading process to finish.

I have never stayed in front of the computer for this long (I've been online for 3 hours and 42 minutes) since April, and April already feels like ages ago. This will be my last 'til-the-break-of-dawn session with the computer since I'm about to start school on Tuesday and curfews are going Oh, right --school! I have completely forgotten that such a place existed. I am beginning to feel excited because I've been stuck at home for quite a long stretch of time and I need to spread my wings and fly. I have no idea what would lie ahead of me; I am not certain if my future in college would be promising or not. But the future is in my hands and I am willing, determined and inspired to do whatever it takes to make up for my childish mistakes during high school. I am talking like this because I am getting older and the maturity virus is kicking. I NEED TO MAKE MY PRIORITIES STRAIGHT, or else I'm gonna end up with a fucked up life and a job that pays less than the monthly allowance my father gives me.

I want a great, happy life.

Speaking of lives being happy, the weirdest thing happened today. I was at the mall and I was wearing a jacket over my Barca jersey. I wasn't trying to hide it completely, I was just trying to cover it up a little. Then I passed by this dude and he was wearing a Man U jacket and my god! He shot me the death glare! I was like "Ooookaaay. Sucks for you, you were rooting for the wrong club." But I figured he couldn't read minds so I tried to zip up my jacket all the way up lest a few more United fans come my way. Don't want things to get dicey.

Oh yeah, I'm not giving up on my South Africa tip just yet. Hotels in Johannesberg are already fully booked, and the best deal I'll probably be getting if I book later on this year will be a hotel somewhere in Mauritius which would be a little more expensive I think becuase it'll take me another 3-hour flight to get to South Africa. And The University only allows the students 10 days of absences, if I go beyond the limit I'm gonna get a failing mark and die.

[Note:] This downloading thing is really taking quite a while.

So, while waiting I'm actually having fun looking at BOF photos. Damn, these boys look so pretty. And I mean really, really, really pretty. They look so clean and refined and angelic and serene and... wait, did I mention they were pretty? Gaze at their prettyness yourselves.

[Photo credit: lovewls from lj]

See what I mean?

By looking at these 100x100 icons, I suddenly missed taking interest in Photoshop. I haven't done anything with PS for quite some time and my skills are already obsolete. I want to head back to photography and this time take it seriously. My cousin is planning to buy a new camera and he's selling his old one to me. It comes with bazooka-like lenses and I'm so willing to buy it, but I don't have the money. I don't understand why he just won't lend it to me for free. We're cousins! We're blood related! Whyyyyyy?! What did I do to deserves this?! Right.

He will entrust this to me in time.

...

So, South Africa anyone?

Who knew?

2009-06-14T22:17:00.001+08:00

When my seatmate in HS junior year shared her amazing (1000000x emphasis on ‘amazing’) compilation of pictures of Korean teen heartthrobs, I didn’t quite mirror her enthusiasm and passion. She spoke so much about them; it was as if she knew them in actuality –a typical behavior amongst those who refer to themselves as diehard ultimate number fans. (I know, there can only be one number one, but apparently that rule does not apply in the fangirl realm.) When Seatmate mentioned their names, I thought she was reciting a tongue twister full of homonyms because they seemed like they all had the same names, only they were arranged differently. It was mad! She tried hard to convert me, but I was such a loyal Jonas devotee that she gave up eventually. Whatever she said made no sense and it meant nothing to me.

Until now.

Just when football season was over and boredom was pushing me off a cliff, Panda asked me if I’ve been watching this Korean show on TV called Boys Over Flowers. A few nights before she asked me that, Treat impeccably enumerated the characters’ name and the corresponding actors’ name of the above mentioned TV show. The fudge! Treat knew about the show, and although he may already look the part, I’m still the girl here; the one who should’ve had sufficient knowledge about the TV program because watching these things on lousy evenings is a girl thing. (Treat said “I’m not gay” in his defense.) Out of curiosity, I dared myself to watch just a single episode and do some evaluation because maybe, just maybe, I might find it entertaining. And guess what? WEE-OH-WEE!

It is embarrassing for me to admit that I was sooooooooooooooooooo damn in love at first sight with this Pyo-Pyo character, but here I am itching to endure disgrace all for the love of Pyo-Pyo. My mum was shocked, of course, when I asked her to buy the DVD for me. In her mind the time she made that purchase was the fact that I was the girl who grew violent when she was forced to watch a Arirang (a Korean channel), believed that K-Pop is musical rubbish and dismissed mostly everything the K-Pop world had to offer.

So, we immediately plugged the DVD on when we got home and immediately forgot about the other important things we needed to do for the day. I’ve never seen my mum procrastinate, ever! But I guess it’s true when they said there’s always a first for things. Mum, sister, and I basically lounged on the couch for 8 STRAIGHT hours, concentrated intently on the TV screen, and shut the rest of the world out. When the mailman came to deliver a letter, we ignored him; we had lunch in front of the TV; we synchronized our schedules in order for us to resume our positions in the living room at the same time. We’re that hardcore.

This show does not disappoint when it comes to eye candy. The clichéd band of four smoking hot, filthy rich kids have out-powered Chuck Bass, Edward Cullen and Prince William of Whales combined! SRSLY. The world is theirs for the taking, no wait –the universe is theirs for the taking. They could damn hire the Silver Surfer just to invade and destroy other worlds for them. I’m actually waiting for the episode where these kids have spent all their trust funds, have their gazillion companies go bankrupt and kaboom! They learn a little something-something about the recession and everybody’s happy living a life of simplicity… in the arms of the one they treasure more than anything in this world. I checked the last episode, and the rich kids only get richer (and finer). Shows/movies like these make you dream to your hearts content and you wake up from your reverie only to realize that fantasizing is no means of escaping the cruelty of the real world. (Dream big concept creator! Dream big! You’ve officially made more people realize that life truly isn’t fair.) But, yes, of course, most are inspired, not discouraged, by shows like these because it is a reminder that nothing is impossible in this world if you have faith in your arsenal.

Oh, whatever. Bottom line is the show is just oozing with cuteness galore. And Pyo-Pyo (btw, that’s not really the character’s name) does all these sweet things to his female protagonist and it’s soooo beyond the valley of sweet. But after 1440 minutes of runtime, boy and girl never had a full-frontal make out scene and it just makes everything far more romantic; a subtle kiss on the lips was enough for them, unlike most American TV shows where there are always scenes not suitable for (very) young audiences. Those Korean shows do not showcase the I-love-you-you-love-me-let’s-get-wild-and-crazy drama. Those from the west really just can’t control their hormones, can they? I guess being in the Land of the Free makes them too liberated, huh?

I just love the show. I can’t stop giggling every time I remember those corny moments of true love. Know what? I could talk about this and like this forever, but I will spare you the suffering.

Oh boy. I’m a whole different person now. ;>

JUNE 4-5, 2009

2009-06-08T11:13:00.003+08:00

Today, I began my life as a college student. Being bonafide suddenly unfolds my irrational fear of aging. It almost brought me to tears one night because I felt like I no longer have the privilege of being tolerated for my dumb acts. I am growing paranoid; I think too hard about how every move I make concerns the welfare of Earth and Mars, and one small glitch would blow everything out of proportion and I would die. Really. I am only a freshman and yet I could already tell that this isn’t going to be an easy stroll around the park. Well, who said it was?

Seeing too much green and yellow made me think about too much poop and bananas. My head was going bananas. And poop. Poop. Poop. I just love saying poop. Poop. Betty Boop went poop. Oh dang! My world is being overrun by poop. I shall inherit all the poop in the WURLD. My brain seems to have bagged more poop than it should. Anyway, the Business Kids all looked like poop; the kind of mushy poop that you poop when you’ve got really bad stomach problems due to ingestion of rotten food or microscopic fly poop. Then the Agriculturists: still poopy, though their kind of poop is caused by intestinal worms that take refuge in your, well, intestines. I heard from somewhere that that’s how your poop’s supposed to look if you’ve got tapeworms scotch-taping themselves in your insides. I’ve got a lifetime of knowledge about poop. I feel blessed. This is what a two day freshmen orientation does to you: it annihilates your brain.

~~Do you know what it’s like when you see this person for the first time and the first thought that pops in your mind is that you want to spend your eternity with that person?~~ Do you know what it’s like when you see this one person for the first time and you spend the rest of your day just thinking about how you want to get to know the person for no particular reason at all? Well there’s this guy, see? He was checking my paraphernalia and I made a kick-ass impression by arranging my papers in correct order therefore saving him from the obstacle of having to recheck 10 big and small and teeny weeny tiny papers twice. He was majoring chemistry, a subject I still loathed at the time, and he was wearing a black leather cuff. He’s already an official student of The University; I was just a freshman struggling to get through the torturous process that was the enrollment.

Up to now, I’m still amazed at my adeptness to recollect every detail about that insignificant encounter. I saw him again at the freshman orientation and he still had his leather cuff on. Obviously, he was on a higher year level than I. Judging by his black leather cuff and the way he styles his mane, Chemistry Dude must be into the whole punk rock scene. I’m guessing he owns an electric guitar or a good acoustic guitar and he plays in a band with his boys. I also think that he’s going to proceed to med school after he graduates from BS Chemistry. And I’d be lucky if this decision was inspired by Seventeen Magazine Online’s College Career Guide article.

On the downside though, I don’t think he’s completely into the whole football thing as much as I am, and that’s a huge deal breaker on my part. Our musical tastes may not come to a compromise because he seems to like too much Fall Out Boy and Story of The Year and I don’t. And he really doesn’t seem like the I’m-taking-hints-from-Seventeen-Magazine-in-secret type of guy. Life is sad.

But on the second day of the orientation, he proved all my theories off beam. Chemistry Dude is not in a band (or at least for now that’s how it seems) and on the contrary is more into dancing. He’s not so much into punk as he is into RNB. I believe he’s a nice person though because it isn’t at all easy volunteering for a two-day job which may well also be the two most chaotic and exacting days of your life. I did not ponder further on because, hey! For all I know, Chemistry Dude may already have chemistry with someone else. (PS. Hyacinth, this is how far we go. Hahaha.)

During the small group discussion, I had a chance to meet my would-be block mates, or at least some of them. Quite frankly, I was somewhat disappointed. I believe that each of us has something to expect when it comes to things which are new to us. My imagination can’t help but go overboard with painting pictures and scripting dialogues –it’s an involuntary function of the brain; much like how the heart involuntarily sinks to the deepest depths of the ocean when its heartbeat intertwines with someone else’s heartbeat and they make beautiful music. No offense meant, but I couldn’t find anyone who I can mesh well with; none of them seem to care about the next football season or the future of Leighton Meester’s singing career. I cannot live with that. I have to talk about things other than the next history test. I need to have someone who understands that I am a wee bit mental. Also, reacting quite harshly when I said “piece of shit” clearly doesn’t denote that you’re cool with me uttering curses. And there was this one person who found it difficult to spell the words 'peer', 'pressure' and 'deficiency'. And because she relentlessly doubted my spelling of ‘deficiency’, she confused me so much to the extent that I had to consult my dictionary for certainty. I mean no disrespect. I adore you guys already.

Sigh. I hope nevertheless.

still alive.

2009-05-21T21:36:00.005+08:00

Oh, lordy.

So, uh... KRIS ALLEN is the new American Idol. Yaayness. My mum so owes me ten bucks now. :))

And, the swine flu? It's the new fad, right? I so envy Purrrry for acquiring this:
It's the Swine Flu Ring. Brilliant.

Out.

I need to find you; I gotta find you

2009-05-20T09:36:00.002+08:00

Dear Wormie,

When I saw you today on the small patch of land at the back part of our house, you were wriggling in fear at the sight of my gigantic foot only inches away from squashing you to death. I am glad that your worm telekinesis somehow managed to push my foot away for without it I would’ve failed to keep my promise to this one person. You see, Wormie, this person and I sorta had a Name Your Pet game and he named his pet worm Therese. So I told the person I’d go look for a worm and name it after him. When we played that game it wasn’t worm season yet, and I was about to lose all hope. Today, you came along.

Sure, that person was just kidding about his worm but I thought it’d be fun to actually have a worm as a pet, and at the same time still be able to keep my end of the bargain. You are currently taking refuge in one of Mum’s plant pots and I hope you like it there. I am asking you a simple favor: please take care of my Mum’s plant. Cultivate the one you’re staying in because it’s favorite, and if it departed this life it would only sadden her.

I chose you, out of all the worms I saw today, because you are of the right length and weight to suite the physique of the person you were named after. I’m sorry, sincerely, because I wasn’t at all excited with taking pictures of you because you seem… unpleasant –unlike the person you were named after.

Good thing you weren’t multi-colored, though, otherwise I would’ve found you irresistibly delectable.

Always,
Mother

Canned

2009-05-20T09:22:00.002+08:00

I don’t need an excuse letter signed by my mum to explain to you why I have been AWOL for almost an entire month. I MISS YOU, BLOGGIE! Eww, ‘Bloggie’? Seriously, I’m spending too much time with my sister than I’m turning to wish. Anyway… so, yes, I’m still alive; I still have a fat ass. But my life has gotten an extra coating of crazy. And before the abundance of crazy successfully takes me away to a mental facility where Dumberbore is headmaster, I might as well chronicle the days that have gone as comprehensively as I can.

THE ARSEHOLE
I found your worm.

PROJECT ARSEHOLE
This project is huge-ass. It’s huger than my hind and the zit on forehead combined. ‘Nuf said!

COLLEGE
My parents have completely lost their minds! They deprived me of the opportunity to study in a university as prestigious as the Maroon University because they think it’s too “far off”. Now, Mum and Dad, wouldn’t it be better if I studied “far off” so that I can develop independency and responsibility? And probably invent some edible meals on the process? You know how I feel now? I feel awful. Like, the ultimate, record breaking high of awfulness. It’s like getting accepted for Yale, but end up studying in a community college because you live a fucking universe away from Yale. You have no idea how much I wanted to rip myself apart when they told me “NO!” but my mum added, “Because we’ll miss you. It won’t be the same not having you here on a daily basis.” And I go, “Yo momma said what?!” I can’t argue with that.

So, I begrudgingly enrolled myself in the Bachelor of Arts in International Studies program at the Blue University (but henceforth labeled The University). An effin’ lot of people has been questioning my choice of course because they don’t think it completely challenges my mental ability (or mental inability) and that there aren’t many job opportunities for the graduates of the said course. Well, I’ve got something for you fellas: Ever heard of Adidas? Might as well try it. You might get a kick of their IMPOSSIBLE IS NOTHING. IMPOSSIBLE IS JUST A FRAME OF MIND. IMPOSSIBLE IS… campaign. Those words? They run through my veins.

While most of my classmates think about their future, I start thinking about other people’s future. Okay, I’m sounding like some humanitarian freak here, but, sorry, that’s just how I got into all of this. If The University offered a course on Archaeology or Astronomy, I would sign up for it (mostly because I think it’s cool and I really don’t want to end up with a boring nine to five job), but they didn’t, so I went on selecting alternates. Then The University offered me a scholarship on International Studies and, God! the world is in a recession I couldn’t possibly pass out on the scholarship. In a more profound sense, the course chose me. I would proceed to law school; a way of fulfilling sort of a purpose for living. Then, finally I will have the power to sue whoever douchebag gets in my way! And the world will have more hot lawyers. HAHAHAHA.

In ten years, I still might not be driving a Ferrari or a Bentley; or lounge on a balcony in Bev Hills, but I would be doing a kick-ass job in the UN or volunteer for some non-profit organization which aims on giving hope to those who have none. I will find eternal contentment knowing that I have touched someone else’s heart. Besides, really, you can’t bring your material possessions in the afterlife. I have no idea why I’m talking like this, but maybe I’ve been too much of a fucking asshole my whole life, so now my heart’s saying it’s time for a change. Less Bitch Flakes and more Food for Thought for breakfast. Sacrificing a chance at Maroon University might yield a positive effect on my life. There could be a St. Therese II for all I know. I’ll be the chick who tells struggling teenagers that everything happens for a reason and if something doesn’t turn out the way you wish it to, the only valid explanation there is that God has other good things reserved for you. So yea, I may not be that overachieving nerd in advanced classes, but at least I’m doing a fine job spreading a word or two –my way of giving back to the world. It doesn’t matter how well you did in school. It’s how well you do in the real world that matters most. (But I’m not encouraging everyone to flunk in school and neither am I stating that failing differential calculus is the easiest way to get canonized. Read between the lines, kids!)

An incomplete thought:
I dawned upon a glorious epiphany and pictured myself waving a UNICEF flag amidst a tribal congregation in South Africa.

A complete thought:
I dawned upon a glorious epiphany and pictured myself waving a UNICEF flag amidst a tribal congregation in South Africa. The odds are stacked against Cesc and I, but you will never know what the future holds. He’ll be my hot commodity Gunner husband and I’ll be his superhero ambassadress wifey. Life is good! Amen to that!

DEBUT
We had a little family gathering last Sunday. We were all enjoying a wonderful conversation, see, when my mother announced that I would turn 18 on the first of October this year. I wanted to bury my face in the pile of rice on the plate and play dead. I hate hearing the number, the date, because it reminds me that I am nearing my death. I could already feel my body wither.

My cousins started to visualize a scheme for the party: venue, theme, guest list, the like. And I sit there listening to them, my eyes bulging out as I fit the puzzle pieces together to form a paradigm of the festivity in my head. It’s scary. Miley-Cyrus-and-Nick-Jonas-getting-back-together type of scary.

Cousin 1: What do you think?
Me: I think… THAT YOU SHOULD JUST BUY ME A PLANE TICKET TO SOUTH AFRICA INSTEAD OF TORTURING ME WITH A RUFFLED DRESS AND HOMICIDAL STILETTOS…

…because seriously, I want to see FIFA 2010. Treat says the world might end in 2012, and if ever he turns out correct I’d wish to spend the remainder of my life on earth worthwhile. I can plan a party everyday if I want to, but FIFA only happens every four years. :(

I was away because...

2009-05-20T09:12:00.002+08:00

otI had the best summer ever.

I was lounging around in my room, waiting for some sort of miracle to stairway down from heaven, when Dad popped in with a brown envelop in his hand. He looked absolutely irate that my hand nervously scampered around in search for a blanket which I could use to protect myself from his frightening glare (Thank God looks couldn’t kill because if they did I would’ve been barbecued to death by now).

He sat on the mattress and handed me the brown envelope, still looking Undertaker-ish. My hand shook under pressure and I could hear my heartbeat accelerating in a rate I thought was beyond normal. Inside were two plane tickets. Awe stricken, I asked him, “You’re leaving???”

“Yes, on the fortnight,” he replied.
“Okay,” I said sadly, “have fun, then.”
Finally he offered me a smile and I felt an incredible sensation of relief. He asked, “You’re not coming with me?”
“You’re not bullshitting me, are you?”
“I don’t like it when you cuss like that but, yes, I’m not bullshitting you.”
“AAAAHH. Where are we going?”
“España.”
“OMFG!!!! Now, you’re seriously bullshitting me!”
“Say that word again and I’m going to rip your ticket into shreds.”
“Bull –okay, sorry.”

Our purpose, or rather my father’s purpose, in Barcelona was to attend a government-related convention among nations. For a moment there I was somehow angry at my dad because he only bequeathed 1% of the Spanish he knew; out of nowhere I said “bonjour!” and a lady said something about how I adorable I was for thinking that Spanish and French are somehow the same language. I will never be able to sue her for acknowledging the dufus in me.

My father granted me permission to wander around the hotel. This chick rushed to give me a hug and I almost screamed in horror knowing that she’s a stranger and she could’ve been infected with the H1N1 Virus and she just didn’t want to die of it alone so she’s out and about infecting others. Whew. She knew by the look on my face that I wasn’t so much appreciative of her nice gesture. She proceeded with asking me if I, by any measure, remembered who she was. I said no in whole honesty. Her introduction was completely surprising because in her statement she emphasized that we were best friends. Even after the illumination I still had no clue who she was, but I ended up saying “hey!” anyway because she seemed so nice I didn’t want to disappoint her.

The fact that she spoke English alleviated me of my frustrations with the native tongue, and it was good to know that there wasn’t any sign of psychotic of mental disorder in her. (Believe me, I would know!) I continued to hang out with this unidentifiable best friend of mine without the fear of getting kidnapped or abducted until we met this band of dudes at the hotel lobby. She knew the dudes, as evidenced by their high-fiving, and she introduced me as Teresa.

One of the dudes told me that we were flying off to Manchester and everything was settled with my father. I wasn’t allowed to talk with my father on the phone because I apparently he was engaged in a heated meeting. Best Friend and Best Friend’s Friends wouldn’t budge when I declined their Manchester offer, regardless of how tempting the trip sounded. I was complacent for a while because somehow I felt that I could trust these people and that they meant no harm, but then again I knew that my father would grow ballistic when he found out that I was out and about in a place that was not of my familiarity.

Best Friend basically carried me to the plane when she realized that I have glued my feet firmly on the ground. Whilst waiting for take off, she started asking me about how things were in the Philippines and I was flabbergasted that she knew so much about me. Maybe we really were best buds and I have just forgotten about her. But how could we have been friends in the first place when she lived miles and miles and miles away from me?

We arrived at a football stadium and one of the dudes detached his self from the group. Not long after I found myself seated amongst a crowd of Manchester United supporters and clothed in an Arsenal away jersey. I was wearing the wrong colors and the United fans booed at me. They booed at me even more when Arsenal lost, 2-1.

The booing eventually ceased when a footballer from Arsenal waved at me and motioned for me to come down from the bleachers. Two redheads asked me if I knew The Dude. And I was like, “The Dude-who?” I looked at the footballer on the field again, and this time examined him extensively –it was The Dude (ultimate footballer idol), and The Dude was calling my name. He was Best Friend’s friend and I felt like a big-ass dufus for not having have noticed him earlier. But I believe it was a good thing I didn’t because if I did, The Dude wouldn’t have been able to play due to brain malfunction caused by incessant fangirly screaming courtesy of yours truly.

The redheads asked me to have their United jersey signed by someone from Arsenal and I began to question their loyalty to their club. I had the shirts signed anyway because one of the rednecks told me he’d have his sculptor brother build a marble statue in my likeness should I conform his request.

After bidding goodbye to my redneck friends (???), The Dude handed me a pair of R10 and implored for me to play football with him. He said he’d work with me on juggling if I’d wish. Of course I said yes. You have to be dimwitted not to. When I gazed again at the field, I realized that it has grown smaller and the loud bevy of supporters had disappeared.

The last thing I remembered was the brilliant smile on The Dude's face which I drew inspiration from when I dribbled past him and managed a goal.

…

Good thing Mum’s not around to wake me up at the crack of dawn. How I wish my dreams were always this amazing.

heading nowhere.

2009-04-15T15:44:00.005+08:00

I miss someone. Like, seriously -- I EFFIN' MISS SOMEONE['s other side]. To detach myself from the misery I decided to open all online accounts which would NOT remind me of the said subject. And look at what I found:

This has no direct relation to the above mentioned subject. But, yeah. If you know me, you'll understand whatever it is I'm trying to say here.

UPDATE: Computer's down, as evidenced by the lack of blogging. I just want to let ya'll know that summer hasn't killed me. yet. Haha.

awkward, eh?

2009-04-04T10:35:00.004+08:00

SETTING: Study area
TIME: somewhere around 10 am

Dad: Therese, come here.

*I approach him*

Me: What?

Dad: My daughter, you really shouldn't overreact every time your crush is around.

Me: Holy -- Whaaaaat???

Dad: I saw you yesterday, during your graduation, and when you're with your crush you seem too... happy.

Me: But I really am happy. I'm a happy person. Even without the guy.

Dad: But you shouldn't overreact.

Me: I'm not overreacting. It's just how I am -hyper.

Dad: Yes you were [overreacting].

Me: No I wasn't. And hey, wait a sec! You don't even know who my crush is.

Dad: Of course I do! You took a picture of him -- just the two of you. Right?

Me: Well... yeah. I did. But hey! I took pictures with a lot of boys.

Mom: How about we put your dad's guesswork to the test.

*Dad, Mom and I check out the pictures on the computer. Dad sees a lot of pictures of me with different guys.

Me: See? See? Lots of boys.

Dad: Hmm. Wait dear, we haven't reached his photo yet. Btw, your smile looks weird.

Me: WHAAAAAT???

Dad: Yes, weird. As in, freakishly weird. You smile too much.

Me: Because I'm very happy. I'm a very happy person.

Dad: But it's weird!!!!! You still smile like that 15 years back.

Me: That just goes to show that that's my signature smile. It's in-born.

Mom: Yeah, just give her that liberty. You smile weird, too.

Dad: *at mom* You smile weirder!

Mom: Hmp.

Dad: But it's... weird, Therese. Tone it down.

Me: It's... happy!!! Okay?? It makes other people happy, too. Enough commentary on my smile.

*Dad spots Kale on one picture*

Dad: Weeeee! I saw him already, but I'm waiting for this one pi -- AHA! Bingo!

*Dad, Mom and I stare at the picture before us.*

Mom: Wow. WOW. You kids look cute together.

Me: Seriously? Ew.

Dad: Hmph.

Mom: Yeah. He looks... good. And you look... well... you look like my daughter.

Me: Nyeh! Nyeh!

Dad: You look beautiful, dear. If you don't smile weirdly, that is.

Me: Not listening

Mom: Honestly, you do look good together. I'm rooting for him.

Dad: See? I told you I was good at guessing. And duh! It was WAAAY too obvious, missy. Like I said, you're too happy when you're with him.

Mom: You silly old man! It's because she really is insanely happy when she's with him.

Dad: Hmm. True.

Me: You sure? Because it doesn't feel that way to me. Duh.

Dad: YOUR SMILE LOOKS WEIRD. Haha! *imitates my smile*

Me: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!

We'll remember all the times we had together

2009-04-04T10:11:00.005+08:00

Yes, we should. Should one not, I swear I’ll stab a stake straight to your heart.

***

YESTERDAY, April 3, 2009: As I jostled pillows left and right it never occurred to me that I was to attend my high school graduation. Well, I knew that it was that time of year already, but the essence… the vivacity of the moment has somehow died out; ran out of power to animate me the very moment I jump out of bed. The one month hiatus was a good one month of leisure to most, but really it was just an unproductive month of bore.

The day started out worse as it was engineered by my mother’s unnecessary tantrum early in the morning and was in association with Kale’s disappointing redundancy and lack of creativity upon. Part of me believed him when he said “I’ll think of something better to write”. So, I gave him a 24-hour grace period so that he can “think of something better to write”. But yeah, he didn’t. And I hate myself for continuing to believe that there’s still goodness in him. Ha!

Afternoon came when sleep tried to overcome me. The obligation to fulfill my responsibility as graduate and the fact that my friends are going to miss me ;) was the only thing holding me back from diving into unconsciousness. So I went there – my cheeks all flushed from the make-up.

Then... there was chaos.

...

Senator Alan Peter Cayetano was there to receive an honor and at the same time render us a speech. I thought it was going to be one of those tedious discourses which I wished they’d spare me, but I was wrong. The first part of it was already interesting enough to make me twitch my mouth slightly to offer a weird smile. He said something about group hugs and likes. Those two things somehow made sense if they were to be added together. Weirdly enough I glanced the slightest bit at Kale who was sitting exactly six seats to the right on the row fronting me. Work with me here, people! Then after a few more speeches and yada yada yada I got my diploma.

Singing the University Hymn [in uniform] one last time made me want to hide and cry. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to loose this bet I made and then owe several people 20 PHP. In times like these, you’d feel bummed if you forgot to bring a camera or somehow failed to insert in every group picture, every group hug, every group conversation and just about everything done together by most. This was it; the glorious finale of the best four years of our ~~teenage~~ life. Unless we can manage to turn back time, we will never be able to live this moment again. But we pushed aside the sorrow inflicted by the goodbyes we were slowly coming to digest because we did not want to remember this significant time of our lives as unhappy. But some people just couldn’t contain the growing pain (and cared less about the bet), like Hyacinth for instance. She cried so hard she made me devastatingly sad. I hugged her and she cried on my shoulder and I was upset that there really was nothing I could to stop the tears from falling down from beautiful eyes.

Knowing that I have spent the four years of high school well together with people who are amazing in many, many ways makes the experience of living it incomparable to anything else. I spent the entire night trying to weave a great line for this, but I failed to do so simply because I was still hung up on the moment and I’m not ready for one last farewell. Yet. But I know in my heart that every single one of us with remember all of this and forgetting is not our power to accomplish.

SLLAPPBAGG, Mcdo People, Booters, BRAIMMS, Ferns, Alucard, COLORS, TJ SMILED, non-clique people, Sampaguita, Dahlia, and Orchid --- I love you, guys. Always have, always will.

LSS steal from Treat ;)
Together we made it; we made it even though we had our backs up against the wall.

I waste in sighs

2009-04-02T22:42:00.004+08:00

We said hey
we said 'lo
We ran down this stretch
of an uncertain road

A promise we made:
we promised to keep
our friendship last
never to end in tears

we continued to defy
the currents, the tides
I continued to believe
the seeming honesty in your eyes

What I didn't see
was this other side
and this other side's telling me
to give up the fight

But you continued to linger
I continued to believe
you continued to play along
I continued to play pawn

So used to goodbyes
So used to people lie
So used to the pain
So used to being insane

A promise we made
a promise we broke
our frienship at a loss
feelings hit with one wrong stroke

***

Goodnight.

April Fools and More!

2009-04-02T19:32:00.002+08:00

The last five days was unbelievably amazing. Amazing, because I morphed into some freakishly cautious, OCD diagnosed person who tried so hard not to catch a cold, sprain a leg, whack own hair, and produce more zits in fear of thwarting Graduation Day (i.e. Best happy-sad moment of my life) experience. Unbelievable amazing, because despite the sincerest of efforts I still ended up with a runny nose, a patch of accidentally snipped hair, and two zits well hidden on the mandible. On the brighter side, at least I didn’t sprain a leg (yet). What a stroke of luck!

Wearing a thick jacket on a very hot day partnered with lack of cooling utilities did not do so much as to help me cope with the pain of dealing with a runny nose and a sore throat. It was Momma’s fault! Her fault alone! Because she forgot to tell us that she wasn’t going to come by in the morning. The plan was to surprise Momma, see, and we had to wear jackets to hide the big surprise, but we were more surprised by Momma’s absence the whole morning. And the copious use of ‘surprise’ surprises me. Leigh and I wore our Booter shirts today to honor Momma’s request of us staying true to what we truly are – and what we truly are, are brilliantly queer daughters of a boobless, drugged-up woman who likes to cancan and cartwheel her way around as she takes insanity in a stride – and we failed to disappoint. Momma was proud the first moment she saw the shirts it in the afternoon. Well, she better be! She has no idea how terrible it is to pretend that the heat is not killing you; you could feel your soul slowly departing from your body.

We had a practice for Graduation today. Here's a fragment of Poppy's subdued evilness.

Me: Poppy, she’s gonna think you’re some sort of bitch from hell.

Poppy: Well, I am a bitch in hell.

Me: In hell?

Poppy: Yes, ‘in hell’, because being stuck with you and Distilled equals being stuck in hell.

Me: Hear that, Yellow?

Distilled: *imitates Poppy’s eerie singing method* Bet that’s the worst form of hell.

Me: Hells yeah.

Poppy: …

Dewey pulled me out of hell by simply asking me to accompany him to get togas. When we got to the redemption area, all hell broke lose –again. Everyone was just ripping plastic bags and throwing togas and caps everywhere, not really caring about the damage it would cause to the apparel and the debt we were to pay should the apparel really get totaled. Amidst the chaos I did not fail to notice that the lack of space for movement made happen the collision of Kale’s hip and mine. I did not see the action though therefore I’m not entirely sure that it was him, but I saw him walking my way and it felt like him and, lastly, I’m not even going to bother blogging this tale if it were otherwise. So please, give me due liberty as to notify you that for a moment there I felt the urge to sew my hip to his but I didn’t because I knew that if ever I did, and he would decide to detach himself, the pain would feel like hell (credit: Angelique). He’s the one immune to all the pain and I’m the big wuss who’s left rolling on the floor weeping her ass off, unable to get over the hip-murder.

Finally GGABBPALLS has reconciled. We’re back on business, baby. To celebrate the triumph (and M’s birthday) we headed out to sing karaoke and man! did my ears hurt like mad. It was pretty much the sequel to M, Dean and K2’s mini-concert at China’s Party. Not gonna elaborate, though, because I’m still recuperating from the loss --hearing loss, that is.

My sister finds it annoying how I keep having weird conversations with the moon –whether it be full, half, waxing, whatever. She sleeps as I talk incessantly –my tone changing accordingly to the kind of anecdote I am eloquently sharing. As much as I try my hardest to evade the one topic I do not wish to dawn upon, it’s difficult to resist beginning a Kale Tale, but the moon had bared witness to all insignificant events which starred him and me, therefore there really is no need to elaborate on every particular detail. My sister continues to groan in protest relentlessly; too bushed to pick up a fight with me.

Tinker starts to bark, and so do the other mongrels within a ten-meter radius. I get pissed; how dare they intrude my solitude? But I am too tired myself to go Chris Brown at my mutt, and the other mutts, so I let them be. Soon enough the barking, the howling, the giving out of canine signals which I fancy I could understand fades. By then I tell the moon how beautiful it is, and its beauty reminds me of good things; of good feelings.

A little backtracking, eh? Yes, that was before. But the moon is still an element radiating good vibrations bequeathing me with much happiness, and at the same time still powerful enough to intoxicate me with nostalgia as evidenced by said backtrack.

hung up

2009-03-31T17:53:00.003+08:00

I am seventeen now; I am no longer getting any younger. Sometimes I still get as confused as a lost kid and there are some points in my life which I cannot connect with another. How did I get here? I have no idea, really. On a daily basis I do nothing, and yet I end up somewhere.

I am completely aloof regarding the more serious stuff simply because I chose to live my life carefree, and to the rather pompous individuals they see this as a genuine act of sheer stupidity which conceals the great idiocy that I may possess. I have been on the spotlight before and I chose to pull myself away from the hype because I’m tired of it all. “You’re a smart kid,” Dad begins, “but not smart enough to use the intellect properly.” I close the conversation. Regardless of being deranged, I am happy with my life and I would never trade it for anything.

This might be Huey and Dewey’s last game as HS Booters, but this isn’t the last sunset I’ll come to witness. Tomorrow, we wake up to the dawn of a beautiful day.

what's beyond beyond?

2009-03-31T17:51:00.000+08:00

I remember telling only seven people about the new URL, but some probably took the liberty of passing the word to others as if they were advertising a blog of their own. I don’t give a damn, though. I mean, that’s good PR, right? But then to read my blog anonymously and taking advantage of various stuff that I say here and use it against me is way beyond the parameters of righteous. It’s a pretty cheap shot actually and it’s very amiss of me to have once thought that they knew better (or knew me better, at least). And no, I’m not being an overacting hypercritical bitch here. I’m merely just being… expressive.

If you do try to initiate a war against me could you please do it with some flair and ingenuity? Right now I find all this comical rather than infuriating. True, the first few seconds were the hardest to take, but then I’m quite disappointed to find that the supposed effect is slowly losing its purpose and I start to laugh because everything just turns into a whirlpool of side-splitting hysteria. Panda and I are supposed to talk about this in a heartbeat, but we don’t because sadly some people can’t handle seeing us together and they would do whatever just to rip us apart and dishonor any human rights we may possess. Panda and I are currently trying very severely not to be caught laughing in public again because people would sue us and chop our heads off if ever we did. Some Adolf Hitler aspirant has decided to deprive us of every opportunity to live our lives the way we wish to. Life is not always fair for Panda and me, but despite the circumstances we’re still pretty much one of the happiest beings to roam the earth.

Speaking of human rights, I was attending my cousin’s graduation ceremony when this new graduate from law school stared at me for a good 30 minutes or so. At first I thought she was probably looking at someone else behind me, but then I realized that there was nothing else behind me but a blank wall. She kept staring and staring and staring and her weirdly plucked eyebrows were pulled together in a furrow. I tire of people who think of themselves superior to others just because they possess flashy cars, flashy jewelries, flashy gadgets, flashy everything. It’s good to know that they have acquired luxuries some people could only dream of but to be flagrant about it is completely unnecessary. My grandfather brought me up with good manners, though (if he were still alive) he might be disappointed to see that I’m a fairly good bitch-slapper. But at least when I diss someone, there’s a fairly adequate reason behind the bitching. Well lady, do you have any idea that it’s not good to stare at other people especially with that condescending look of yours? Gee, I bet you do. And good thing I still had the decency not to stare back at you because you’d most likely get a seizure anyway. And revenge is not sweet, especially when you waste on someone not worthy of the time.

I do hope that things don’t go from bitch to worse for the people who have tried to destroy my hushed existence. You know someday I might be able to get tired of being the nice kid, but right now I have no intentions of wishing those who have treated me unkindly the same ill consequences.

Bin there, dawn that

2009-03-31T17:24:00.006+08:00

I am tired of my boring, regimen life. Every waking day just seems more monotonous that the last. And what’s worse is that even though you know that the tedium is some sort of torturous slaughter, you still continue living it because you can’t challenge the fact that there’s really nothing you can do about it. Then somehow you get pissed off because you keep saying “So bored,” and the word “bored” is rather an understatement, so you persevere in finding a better substitute yet nothing makes the cut. Life could only get lamer by the minute.

Everyday a list of chores is sticky-noted on the wall, but to tell you the truth I’m never really the one to obey in a heartbeat. But I do the chores anyway, and, on a good note, end up tripping on a noteworthy something or two.

I spent the remaining days in high school telling everyone that they have to give me some sort of keepsake or token of appreciation for my being crazy-ass which is, I am most positive, essential to the very existence of their bliss. There’s no denying the fact that this big-hind psycho freak that walks like a gorilla on a daily basis brings out a smile in that face of yours.

Hyacinth’s face makes an entrance (I showed only half her face with due respect to her privacy). In that certain picture she boasts her vampire teeth as a kid. Well I envied that knowing how awfully malformed my teeth were years back. She no longer possesses the same set of pearly whites, though. Oh, why did she have to grow up?

So, I promised Orange that I’d keep this hairclip forever lest our friendship be forfeited. I thought I lost it one time and I honestly flipped out. No, I didn’t freak out just because I lost her precious little hairclip and I was having a really bad day ergo I really needed to wear said hairclip. I freaked out because I am not the type of chick who breaks promises no matter how petty they are. Once I’ve made a promise, I tie it to my soul. Damn the person who ever said “promises are made to be broken.”

Bee and I got plastic dog tags together and this thing here means so much more than my favorite pair of socks. It is the very first memento denoting my you-know-what for you-know-who. I had it made sometime in October (not sure) and I don’t wear it quite often as I used to. It’s probably because Jasper fandom is so last season (???).

“Pretend its Steven’s.”

Graduation is only a few days from now, and I’m dreading this killer pair of shoes that I’m supposed to wear. Still accepting remembrances, though. AND, can any of you tell me where I can buy Styrofoam (or whatever you call it) which looks like a piece of cloud in the sky?

Stuff I hardly give a damn about

2009-03-19T12:55:00.005+08:00

For the first time in a very, very, very long expanse of time I.. well, acted like shit. Like, seriously.

And no, these aren’t just tears – not just moisture coming out of my eyes on a whim– but more like the pigment of resistance towards the unearthed truth, the truth that I’ve been trying so hard to unravel only to find out that it was not in my power to handle. At the beginning I did not understand how I am still capable of being so frail, so weak, and so vulnerable after all these years of building up my inner strength through facing and braving all sorts of tribulations. Then I realized that I am human; an entity so unfortunate to have been bestowed a feeling heart. But just as it has begun to thump in jovial celebration it then decides to hit the brakes and create one deafening screech --it comes to a crushing, full stop. With all these adversity, I couldn’t find anymore means of reviving it. Not now that the world is pitted against me and there’s not a prayer left in this little amount of faith I may have remaining.

In strong insolence to this whimsical post, I am never the one to talk the talk, and not walk the walk, but forgive me for being so flawed. The captain of this ship is lost in memories as it swims in trance. The captain is going a bit off track and has lost all reasons to desire the prize. Then the captain’s life has suddenly transubstantiated into a loose definition of a black hole where there is only nothingness. Here comes the part where the captain breaks, and the decision to jump off the deck is very nearly considered because the captain would rather be freed of animosity than live with it. But then the captain hopes… the captain, for the millionth time, hopes for the dawn of a new day and continues at sea regardless of the loneliness and isolation the sea offers to those who think are courageous enough to wander though it. But in his mind, he seeks no more the same treasure.

This feeling is odd because I cannot seem put it on paper and decipher it. I’m not mad. How could I be mad when I’m happy? But at the same time how could I be happy when I’m sad? But then how could I be sad when I’m feeling content? And how on earth could I feel contented when every fraction of the map is as bleak as it is already incomprehensible?

I would never act like this if it weren’t for those memories – those fugacious, star-crossed keepsakes of events that never should have occurred, that never should’ve happened, that I never should’ve believed in. Those memories now stand testimony to prove how mentally somewhat deficient and unbelievably gullible I could be. So yeah, I am the believer; the daydreamer; the biggest mistake of the human biological genome. And some people might take pride and joy in toying with those shortcomings.

I have never chanced upon an opportunity to enjoy the least amount of tranquility even under unconsciousness. Why, he ever so magically appears in my dreams! And you know what? In dreams, we’re so happy it’s almost grotesque. And then I wake up feeling so cold, not even 3 obstacles of bed sheets could make any difference.

A while ago, I went outside to greet the mild sunlight. Then this dude passed by and God! He smells so much like you-know-who and I cringed at the devastating blow of the scent. His is aroma may seem the most trivial reminder to some, but to me it just profoundly reminds me of the guy I used to like so much it hurt. And smelling it, understanding it, remembering it hurts me to the gut. It’s like how Edward Cullen so freakishly could not forget how Bella’s blood smells and it puts in him in so much pain because he can’t have her blood for dinner. Haha! Okay, so that was completely non-pertinent. I don’t want him for dinner, eww.

I walked back to the house making a mental list of pros and cons which started with “Makes me smile” for pros and “Makes me smile” for cons (go figure). This is where my Mom came in. She can tell that I was bothered not only because I have spent an eternity trying to finish this write-up and she’s positive it’s not a reaction paper about science fairs or whatnot, but because she is my mother and my strange silence around the house is not customary. I have been playing this 20-track playlist :) over and over again, and soon enough she’s bound to connect the dots between the lines “I’d wait here forever just to see you smile”, “Every minute with you I feel like I can do anything”, “You know when the sun forgets to shine, I’ll be there to hold you through the night”, “let me hold you for the last time, it’s the last chance to feel again”, and lastly “I'll be big enough for both of us to say: be happy”. It’s only a matter of time when she sits to talk mother-and-daughter with me.

Right now, there are probably a thousand others who share the same laments as I. The total amount of tears shed is probably enough to fill up the Hover Dam should the reservoir go arid. But unlike most of them, I am so willing to go through this alone. I was genius enough to get myself into this mess; I might be just as genius as to get myself out.

And yes, in this heavy rain, I'm doing pretty alright, still. :)

:/edit

there's this thing i like to call "booterology"

2009-03-17T21:42:00.003+08:00

I don’t recall doing any good deed which would make me deserving of the happiness that embraced me this afternoon. To tail with my previous shitty post, after the tantrum in the morning I decided to head home and think things thoroughly. The apology message stands proof of my sincere pondering. The weather cooperated with my gloomy mood, but I wasn’t pleased with that. We were scheduled to have a soccer game in the afternoon –- the sequel to the previous soccer game Leigh and I missed –- and I so wanted to play. It started to drizzle a bit, but there was no sign of withdrawal especially from the boys. It was game time.

I remember so well how I wished to ask Baldwin to take me to a soccer game in England. I haven’t told him, but he promised to bring me McFly CDs and a box of the fanciest chocolates when he gets back in the city, and those are enough promises for now. But that’s not the point. I’ve always dreamed of playing soccer. That is the point.

After a warm exchange of heys and hellos, and a little pussy teasing with Keds, we began playing.

LEIGH: Can we please stay in the same team together?
ME: Yeah, please?
GERRARD: Aww. No. Each team must have its muse.
LEIGH: Aww.
ME: Betcha he just wants to save everyone from the torture of carrying dead weight on a team.

So I was on Gerrard’s team and Leigh was on Keds’. I didn’t know which position to play and I was just smiling there like one fat-ass zombie with no clue of why she ended up on the field and due to utter bewilderment I ended up disregarding Andy’s commanding for me to play midfield or forward. You know how my mind always perceives the reverse of what it has really been told –- I opted to play defense.

If you wish to find leisure in witnessing bad goal keeping, watch me play. Well, I wasn’t goal keeper or anything, but I just missed blocking few good shots. Kale played forward for the opposing team and you bet he laughed when he got past me a couple of times. But you bet I laughed [inside] when I managed to block his attempt to goal and Gerrard said “Nice one, Tere.” I like how Gerrard treats his comrades ever so nicely. It’s like how man compliments his canine and gives him treats and overflowing praises every time the canine obeys a command or two; or how parents grant their kids rewards every time they come home with good grades. He’s an absolutely wonderful person.

The final scores were 8-10 (I think), in favor to our team. I really thought we were going to loose, but Gerrard saved our asses by making one goal after another during the last few minutes of our game. Hallelujah, Gerrard!

On my way home, I sank into this feeling of inestimable joy, not just because Leigh and I were able to play our favorite sport in the whole world, but because we were able to share this devotion with people who we call friends. Even though Leigh got hit by the ball only some dozen of times, everything was still remarkable precisely because even though we’re all well on our way to graduation, the thought of ever rescinding and leaving this behind is far from consideration.

water conservation.

2009-03-17T12:08:00.005+08:00

I know we are obliged to conserve and preserve any forms of water, but sadly some people just couldn't help themselves from wasting a teardrop or two.

I didn't take into consideration that you guys aren't used to all the cussing and cursing, so I'd like to apologize for having had tainted your innocent minds with my verbal daggers. Yes, I only go berserk once in a blue moon and when I do, I cannot assure you as to how high the intensity of my blow will be. I'm really sorry for putting you all in a situation wherein I look so pathetic and you guys wish to comfort me but you just can't and I continue to mope and laugh at the same and you're clueless as to what to do with me. I am weird, I know. And what happened a while ago must probably a product of not setting my emotions free and just let all the mixed feelings burst up inside of me. I was losing all sense of reasoning. It's like this other monster have suddenly become strong enough to overrule me. Like... I wasn't myself anymore. And I am disgusted and disappointed with myself for letting that happen --for putting you all in the same misery as I.

But through all of this, I wish to thank you --truly thank you, because I can see in the eyes of some people that they truly cared; that they wished to take a small peek into my demented brain just to make sense out of everything and might get a solution along the way. Thank for you for consoling me even though I know I did not deserve to be consoled. I am a horrible person in many, many ways but you stuck with me. You guys make me so happy.

*smiles*

missus

2009-03-16T23:36:00.005+08:00

I miss my friends; I miss my other friends; I miss my knapsack; I miss my schoolwork; I miss my quizzes; I miss my homework; I miss my black shoes; I miss my pleated uniform; I miss my graffiti-gallery-slash-armchair; I miss my teachers; I miss the staff; I miss the annoying guards; I miss the 7:30 call time; I miss the 4pm dismissals; I miss the canteen vendors; I miss the college gay community; I miss Nicholas; I miss the stray dogs; I miss the freakishly creepy stray cats;I miss the little cheap thrills; I miss the flood; I miss the trippings; I miss the circle; I miss the plant boxes; I miss the smelly comfort rooms; I miss the scary corridors; I miss school.

Let me hold you for the last time. it's the last chance to feel again.

2009-03-16T19:12:00.004+08:00

ME: She wrote about you, huh?

BEN: Yeah, obviously.

ME: That’s just mean, really.

BEN: I know. After I read it I was tongue-tied. It’s sorta embarrassing, really.

*someone inserts and talks shit about “moving on”*

ME: You better move on, Ben.

BEN: It’s difficult. You have no idea.

ME: Difficult? Nay, you’re so damn wrong.

BEN: Hmm. *shrugs*

ME: It’s so easy…

*silence*

ME: So Leigh, have you moved on yet?

LEIGH: FUCK! Don’t involve me in this.

***

Letting go of high school is not just about letting go of high school. There is so much more to the cliché. Again, it’s not that difficult to comprehend though it may be a little difficult to get pass by. It’s not just high school we’re saying goodbye to –-we move on from valued traditions, we move on from close-knit friendship, we move on from young love.

But apparently to some of my friends the words “move on” scare them shitless. Sure, the first few steps are the hardest to take and some tend to stop halfway and go back to phase one. To me, it’s somewhat a game of Snakes and Ladders and you can’t control how which side of the dice faces up. The outcome might be of favor to you, or it could not. But whichever the consequence, you cannot wrestle with the hand of fate.

Back to the let go thingo.

When I first tried to convince myself to forget about Kale (bear with me, those days doused in complete misery are very much horrifying for me to recall), I was not willing to accept such an offer. I defied every rule, every philosophy I have ever lived by just to continue believing in the idea that someday, in God’s time, Kale and I will brave everything and will see the sun rise to mark the beginning of a magnificent friendship between the both of us. You know how there are inconsistency issues and well, yeah, it all went down from there.

But I have never reached the point wherein I would drown in my tears and the unbearable heartbreak would lead me to head out on a suicide mission. How did I cheat torment? See, first thing I did was breathe, then I told myself “Fool. Get a life.” Honestly, the fool part was a little too harsh, but it worked to motivate me more. My father always told me never to jump into conclusions and I had to cross the bridge first. I didn’t chant “I’m gonna move on” incessantly because I didn’t want to be reminded of the reason for moving on and we all know that the element you so desire to be rid of is also the most vital reason to keep you holding on.

I took things lightly and never forced myself into pursuing the obstacle. I didn’t go “I HAVE TO MOVE ON NOWWWW!” because that would just sound like some effin’ desperate psycho. I didn’t read quotes about tragic love stories or anything related to love for that matter. Instead I invested my time in productive pastimes like venting in a blog and reading words of wisdom from other people. Also, let me just add that I have ADD which makes it relevantly difficult level: easy for me to move on because I could be distracted ever so effortlessly. Store away stuff that may remind you of the element to elude.

Most importantly, be happy. Be happy that you are doing this moving on thing and not mope around and cry your eyes out. Think not that you are doing this because things aren’t working out and you’re feeling pathetic yada yada yada, but simply think of it as a gift to yourself –the gift of emancipation from the subject of your affection that’s been holding you back all the while. You’re will-power to set this person free must be as tough as titanium.

Then in the end, you will learn to accept whichever outcome fate presents you with.

I know, I make it sound so easy, but yeah, it is. It took me what? A week to move on? Jesus, that must be an all time record. Oh sure, I still listen to a couple of songs which I used to sing for an imaginary version of him, read old blogs/poems about him, get all weeohwee at the hint of his scent and most importantly still talk to him (we’ll eternally remain friends). But yes, it was just nothing more than a like, to start with.

I am not holding any grudge nor am regretting anything in the past. He will always be this one spot of happiness once upon a time in my life and that title he’s holding will never be rightful to anyone else but him. Yes, we are capable of moving on. But forgetting –it’s a whole different story.

Pursuit of puppyness

2009-03-15T18:21:00.003+08:00

My Mother got pissed at me and my sister because we completely monopolized the two bathrooms for almost an hour. She cussed, see, and it was so hilarious because while she did so she was raising both of her hands in the air, just like what some of those preachers do in this religious show on TV. Then it hit me that she wasn’t cussing, rather, she was singing this BeeGees song in falsetto. Mom pulled off a mean falsetto which was strangely entertaining to me, considering I hardly find enjoyment in her singing. So her hands continued to flail about in the air and I gave one loud snort just to check if she’d bounce back to her I’m-so-pissed-at-you-kids-you’re-dead-meat! mode, but she didn’t which leads me to the conclusion that my Mother’s weaknesses are eerie falsetto singing boys and mangoes. :)

Seriously, how come my father gets to celebrate his birthday twice? Yesterday, we had a little get-together at home complete with food, drinks, and cake (Cake, people! Cake, I tell ya!). Today, after attending mass, we celebrated at this restaurant together with Papa Uncle and his family. No, unfortunately, we failed to get him a cake this time, but Papa Uncle fought with Dad over the bill. Papa Unlce, being the really generous old folk that he is, paid for the total sum of about 2 grand. Dad pretended that he wanted to pay the bill, but Papa Uncle insisted. Papa Uncle wins battle over the bill; Dad’s consolation is an impish smile.

We headed out to visit Grandma and Grandpa after sharing a wonderful meal. Just when I was going to pass out, because of boredom and sheer hunger desperation (I wanted to eat cake, but Mom didn’t allow me to), I met a ray of sunshine bestowed from the heavens.

Her name is Jingle, but I didn’t like calling her that so I christened her Georgina-forward-slash-LeeLee-forward-slash-Poppy. She responded when I called her Poppy (probably because it sounded like “puppy”), and she licked me in delight when I called her LeeLee. When I called her Georgina in front of my aunt, the owner, she buried her face in the ground and ceased to wag her tail. I figured she knew that “Georgina” is this evil bitch’s name in Gossip Girl.

Jingle is a bitch, alright, but she sure ain’t evil.

no, this ain't schoolwork.

2009-03-14T12:48:00.008+08:00

You know how Google celebrates whatever celebration there is to celebrate by going all creative and transforming their usual primary colored Google insignia into something that has relation to the occasion? I was about to Google for a good tracking system for zee blog, but then Google told me that today is Giovanni Schiaparelli’s birthday so, Wikipedia at the ready, I ended up doing a research about him.

So, I introduce you to Giovanni Schiaparelli:

Astronomy
He observed objects in the solar system, and after observing Mars he named the "seas" and "continents". Beginning in 1877 he also believed he had observed long straight features he called canali in Italian, meaning "gutter" but mistranslated as "canals". Many decades later these canals of Mars were definitively shown to be an optical illusion. He was also the first to demonstrate that the Perseid and Leonid meteor showers were associated with comets, and he discovered the asteroid 69 Hesperia on April 26, 1861.

-Wikipedia

Happy Birthday to him.

***

Onto stuff which really matter to me, I checked on my boy T, and man, I realized that I want him back. It's been a while since I last visited his page and well, he still has this spell on me. Then the kid blogs and its so funny because I can't believe the kid still has time for it. In this one post, he rants about Facebook.

Facebook: “Facebook is a social utility that helps people communicate more efficiently with their friends, family and coworkers.”

So now, straight to the point of my saga. i breached a plateau of facebook exposure this week by hitting the 5,000 friend mark. an achievement not only for me & all of my fb buddies, (you guys!), but one that i feel like facebook would be proud of. my way of tipping off my hat to the big boys in corporate to say, "hey fellas, i believe in your site. thanks for coming out." they then proceeded to e-smack me across the face by letting me know that i will no longer be able to accept any more friend requests. wha?? their way of saying - "hello faithful customer, thank you for using & supporting our friend network. now stop having friends." ridiculous! a joke! a direct contradiction to their mission statement! mission-statement-impossible! i didn't see the part in the mission statement about..

Facebook: “Facebook is a social utility that helps people communicate more efficiently with their friends, family and coworkers. (until they reach 5,000 friends, which is when we officially stop helping people communicate efficiently & start discriminating against our gold-star users.)”

I want his cap. It has MY and HIS initial on it. :)

I was like, hell no! I haven't even taken Facebook seriously and my lazy ass hasn't found time to add you up and now you like, CAN'T ACCEPT FRIENDS ANYMORE. This makes me sad. I'm always behind.

So yeah, yeah. He's making me want to reconsider Facebook again, alongside other friends who've been convincing me to give it a try. Ugh. Don't you kids find it difficult to memorise an effin' lot of passwords? Crimity.

My mother inspires a joie de vivre in me.

2009-03-14T12:30:00.002+08:00

As I sit here, hopping from one window to another in search for graphic tees which I may purchase should my father lend me money for being a good egg these past few hours, I continue to cough like hell. My mother passes by, pauses for a while, and shoots me this frightening sneer.

THURR: *coughing like mad* Mom, does this sound like smoker’s cough to you? I swear to God I’m not smoking. I swear. Or it’s probably tuberculosis?!?! You know how awfully polluted the city is nowadays ---

MOM: Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. Your system’s probably just reacting to something. Dust, I suspect.

THURR: Oh! Oh! So now you’re suggesting that I’m allergic to this one thing I can never avoid? It’s gonna suck when the cause of my death will be over exposure to dust causing to allergic reaction galore.

MOM: Sheesh. But hey, dad said he’d give you money ---

THURR: Really? Really? Cool! Cool! So, I’m planning to --- *coughing like mad.*

MOM: *stares* You’re gross.

THURR: Can I help myself?

MOM: You should cough with more class.

THURR: What do you me to do? Just go “hem, hem” when I need to do so much more than just that.

MOM: Yeah. Cough like you have a secret.

THURR: But I don’t!

MOM: Then cough cutely.

THURR: *exits*

***

My father has just turned a year older. Happy birthday, Dad! I love you. :)

& &@# $%^=!!!!!

2009-03-11T18:49:00.002+08:00

The magnitude of my anger right now is overwhelming, it scares me so much. I’ve never had any anger management issues but I just can’t seem to stop myself from punching the walls of my room. I can’t feel any pain. It’s probably because I’m numb and I’m too focused on my darkened thoughts to give a damn about my fist turning red and almost on the verge of swelling. I made a conscious decision to use my right fist because I know very well that I’d go nowhere if I were to lose my left “writing” hand.

This day started out so amazingly wonderful and ended up so brutally annoying.

I have lost count of the times I’ve cussed and cursed today. I’ve completely lost control and, ugh, I’m even banging on this fucking keyboard right now.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how our class get together got officially cancelled just because we were unable to join the meeting yesterday. I know that’s a fairly good ground, but here’s the kicker: most of us were not present in the meeting because we were busy getting our pictures taken for the yearbook. We had to set our priorities straight and I’m sorry to say that the meeting only ranked second to the pictorial. And fuck, we could’ve booked a meeting on a not-so-busy day, a day wherein ALL of us could agree on, like, say, Wednesday or Tuesday afternoon when everybody is done with their pictorials. Then I begged you to reconsider and you pretended like you didn’t hear me and acted like you did not care. That triggered green light; I started to get piss. I was so vexed that I imagined myself strangling you and shaking you and letting you go only when you finally approved of the get together. But I didn’t do just that because I respect and love you so much, I’d rather have myself hurt.

Then I keep hearing stupid issues which make me wish that I did not belong to this certain clique. Why, I’m just fed up with all this shitload of seemingly overrated drama. I’m not even gonna dwell on that matter because it infuriates me even more. I’m thinking that I’d rather be alone, with just myself and a few selected friends, than pretend that I’m going to enjoy the little trivial events of yore which may lie ahead of us should our issues remain unresolved. It’s irritating; it’s bullshitting the hell out of me; it’s destroying the diminutive amount of sanity I have left. We have to, very much, try to understand one another, not gang up and pick on this one vulnerable person. I know you guys are mad at her for ditching us this one time. I hope you guys are well aware that we are not her only best pals. She has other friends and her other friends are asking for her to spend some time with them, too. I know she lied, but as if you’d never done so as well. She probably just forgot to tell us the real deal. She is human; so purely capable of being erroneous just like you and me.

Oh, and before I forget –the fare receiver of the public vehicle I rode on my way home MUST DIE. Why in the world would he just throw the change at me instead of placing it politely on my open palm? I know both of us were in a hurry, but damn, that’s not even a good excuse. If killing a person mercilessly was legal under rightful justification, I would’ve grabbed the opportunity to wring his neck, go Mike Tyson on him, throw him on a pile of shattered glass and douse him in citrus. Feel the pain.

So much for my supposedly “fine day with them soccer boys”.

NEED FOR SPEED... OR MAYBE JUST A CAR.

2009-03-11T18:41:00.001+08:00

My father had always found recreation and enjoyment in trying his luck in the lottery. He has never won anything more than P5000, and his efforts are very much pronounced, it is sad to see hopes of him ever winning an amount larger go astray. He is getting older, and for some reasons I wanted to pull him out of the said vice because it just adds up to his quandary. But at 7:25 pm today, I wanted him to go on betting, and win this time.

So a change of mind occurred when I was riding a public vehicle on the way home. As we made a turn ‘round this curb my heart sank –I saw a freaking Range Rover. I know, I know, it’s just freaking Range Rover, my friend in the States drives one and she’s no big celebrity, but a Range Rover in a small city like this is like whoa! I was contemplating on whether to get a taxi and follow the Range Rover and carjack it, or just halt it in the middle of the street and propose to the one driving, with matching bended knee and a ring at hand. I don’t know what’s up with me and this uncontrollable fixation with hot rides as I get closer and closer to the big one-eight, but whatever it is, it simply comes down to me begging my father to give me a car of my own.

A few months ago, I saw an SLK. I died of elation, almost, knowing that I was only a meter away from a luxury car. Same thing happened when I saw a Mercedes Benz M3 and a Jeep at a mall parking lot. With the M3 and Jeep, I was more fascinated at the fact that both rides were mentioned in the Twilight books. Said automobiles are not something a tad too many people in this place could so easily acquire. Seeing cars like that inspire me to keep up my marks in school, and at the same time make me wanna get to know a gang highly efficient carjackers. I might learn a thing or two.

I kept a photograph of the M3 pinned on my wall, by the way – a little memento of that marvelous point in my life wherein the angels sang “Hallelujah” and then the scene shifted to an image of the car and I separated by a clear meadow, the car and I, in motion picturesque slow motion, reach towards one another and embrace. But I promise you the picture does not come with a full make-out scene whatsoever.

My father has not made any advancement regarding the car thing. He promised to buy a car of my choice, but did not necessarily mean for me to own the car. I am his eldest child; I am turning eighteen soon; I deserve a car of my own. I’m gonna have it no other way.

WEIRD SHIT

2009-03-06T16:45:00.004+08:00

You know how Jasper is – he can’t resist a good emotional climate. You’re so happy all the time he gravitates toward you without thinking.

Dear Kale,

A few weeks from now we’ll be graduating from high school. These past few days I’ve been tormenting myself with thoughts of how I am ever going to get a grip and move on with life after this. It’s not easy for me to leave my comfort zone, and you, of all people, make saying goodbye even harder.

On February 23, 2009, I told you that I liked you. You assured me that we were going to remain friends, and I was contented with that, thank you. But I’m not numb enough to fall short in noticing how much your treatment towards me have changed after said event. You acted nicer; you started to care. We’ve been classmates for three straight years and only now have you started asking me what time I’m going home and who I’m going home with. The changes are quite evident, and I’m not too blind to see.

At the same time, I cared for you, likewise. And somehow I felt happier knowing that you were there. I thought I’d be strong enough to resist your charm but I was so fucking wrong. I found it funny how badly you reacted when I told you the scent of your perfume reminded me so much of my father. You laughed, and your friends did so, too. I didn’t quite get the point. I only did when some of my friends told me that my compliment was more insulting rather than flattering. But I didn’t care. My father is the one guy who has truly loved me and cared for me even when I am at my worst. Most of the time, I’d mope around the house wishing that my father was consequently here with me. But when I’m with you and you’re wearing your perfume, I feel that I’m partly with my father and that I am loved and cared for. I know that you’re different from my father and I like you the way you are and not because you are such a father/brother figure. Every single thing that I tell you has deeper meaning.

Then once upon a time we went ghost hunting with some friends. I was honestly terrified, but it didn’t show because you were there and I felt comfort and security. I considered running towards you should some horrendous monster appear before all of us. I would hide behind your back and shut my eyes tight. You would drive the monster away and order it to never come back. I would thank you, and realize that what I just pictured out will be no more than just a vague imagination. It was raining that night and we casually made our way back to our classroom. We didn’t run for cover, we just walked in our normal pace as we continued to chatter about the most random of things. I loved the fact that we were happy under the gentle shower of moisture. Everything was wonderful simply because even though were not you-know-what, you remained by my side. :)

Isn’t it supposed to be like this? The glory of first love, and all that. It’s incredible, isn’t it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?
Edward Cullen, Twilight, Chapter 14, p.302

And now I’m seeing you less and less. I realized that the thing I miss most about school is seeing all of my friends, you included. We are all parting ways and may not see each other for a long time. It makes me sad. My happiness is ephemeral, but despite all this I am glad that in this short span of time I was able to get to know you and enjoy your company more than ever.

And then to find, even though it’s all new to me, that I’m good at it… at being with you…
Edward Cullen, Twilight, Chapter 14, p.300

Every moment I shared with you will be kept safe in memory and I’ll cherish it forever. I’ve never liked someone so much in my entire life. It might be difficult for me to find another “like” because you truly are irreplaceable. I’ve been contemplating on whether or not to stay single for the rest of my life, as Jane Austen did after letting go of Thomas Lefroy. But I’m still vacillating, don’t worry.

I’m sorry I had to put this all in letter because I don’t have the courage to say it right in your face. But if you read this, I hope all’s still okay between us and will remain like so.

With everything, I won’t let this go. These words are my heart and soul.

-T.

FINALLY.

2009-03-02T14:05:00.002+08:00

FINALLY.

I couldn’t explain the mortifying sensation of pain every time I had to pretend; had to lie; had to perjure myself. It was an escape route away from something I desired so much and yet feared at the same extent.

But all of that crap is now a part of the distant past.

He knows.

It happened in a silly game of Truth or Truth. The only way of escape was to lie. I thought that would be easy considering I’ve been lying my way through the whole time. I could survive this, I thought. But I never should have been too confident. When it was my turn to answer a question, everybody else went “hallelujah!” and cheered. I stiffened, not only because I knew what their question would be, but because the answer was sitting right beside me.

“Is it true that you like ----“

It struck me as straightforward; it was more of a confirmation rather than a question. I mean, it could’ve gone like “Who’s your crush?” and I would answer “Oh, my crush? Remember that tiny kid from junior class? Yeah, he’s my crush.” There really wasn’t any choice laid out for me. If I were to answer “no”, some of them would gang up on me and say I was lying. I felt something weird while tried to weigh the possibilities. Somehow, I wanted to tell the truth. I didn’t want to lie. With a final gulp, I tersely said “yes”.

The feeling was insane; it was insurmountable, I felt like I was going to pass out any minute. But I was complacent –the thorn that has been puncturing my heart for far too long has finally been plucked out and I didn’t give a damn about possible dangers in the future. He assured me that we were to remain friends no matter what. I felt good; I felt great; I felt happier than usual.

I have risked my precious reputation for the one I truly treasure. Fate brought me here. I am consumed by this feeling I could not fathom. Just when I found the right time to let go, I keep on finding more and more reasons to hold on. Okay, I like him. But that’s just it. I simply could not allow the feeling to fester because there is no certainty in it.

I end this post with a smile, the bitter query that is: “When does this expire?”, and the glowing hope that is: “There’s no ending here.”

DEADPAN EXPRESSION

2009-02-19T17:20:00.003+08:00

And I quote a fine young lady:

Dear Kale,

It’s been three years now, and yet I’m still in the process of trying to figure you out. Putting you into comprehension is a vain attempt to overcome rocket science. It’s difficult to catch up with your spontaneity, but I will persevere, because I know you are something –you are special (at least for me, you truly are).

We have been casual friends for quite some time, though there were these little insignificant moments of ours which makes other people doubt the depth of our friendship and at the same time drool in envy at how we are capable of keeping things down low and not be too flagrant and blatant when being together (even though deep inside I’m madly fluttering and swooning, it’s insane).

I’m sorry for this one time wherein I lost control of my emotions and this correspondingly lead to the destruction of the little tranquility we keep. I know for a good span of time we awkwardly tried to avoid each other at the greatest extent. I was living in ill pretense when I told myself I shouldn’t be in awe of you. I have moved on from that lie. Here we are –I still like you. And thank goodness! We’re talking again. :)

I’ve never felt anything like this towards anyone before in my entire life. You are, sad to say, my first, for lack of a better word, “like”. It’s funny how my head jerks around every time I hear the door squeak and I’d see you slouching just so everyone would fail to notice your untimely arrival, or how my eyes intuitively try to search you in the crowd, or how I am always so fascinated about learning new things about you. It’s funny because I never intend to do any of those things, but I am aware that I’m doing it and yet I find it impossible to stop developing such quirks.

But I’ve come to realize that all of these things are just measures to keep your best interests at heart. I am, in ways unimaginable, only looking out for you. Remember that time when you sat beside me after you became conscious of your own defeat? You probably don’t, but I do. And the memory seems so fresh and clear it feels like it only happened yesterday. When you sat beside me, I couldn’t feel the pumping of air in and out of my lungs. I felt your pain; I felt it like it was my own. Somehow, trusting on mere instinct, I wanted to console you; to protect you from further damage; to tell you that it’s a just a phase and will just pass even though I know you might not listen. Yes, I will take the humiliation just to stand up for you because you’re such a poor thing; it’s like you don’t even know how to dispose of yourself. You have that intense an effect on me, and you don’t even have a clue.

There is nothing for us in the near future. I know because, aside from the fact that I have my premonitions, I prayed for nothing to happen. :) I am not selfish enough to put my happiness before your own. You have your own choices, I have mine. I am in complete emotional stability that it is, currently, difficult for me shed a fervent tear because I trained myself to fail to do just so. I may be mental, but at least I am happy with my life. And yes, it is happier because of you. ;)

-T.

FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY

2009-02-19T17:15:00.001+08:00

I think its moot point to actually think of this day as special because, really, it isn’t. I think it’s stupid how a lover suddenly becomes creative enough to think of something special to do to his/her other half just because it’s Valentine’s Day and he/she feels this zest of responsibility to do something irrevocably “romantic”. I mean, can’t we do that any day? Can’t you show an expression of true and unconditional love on a day other than this? Can you think of me telling you this because it’s purely theoretical, not because I’m out of love on Valentine’s Day, and yet still the practicality of my point?

I haven’t been asked out on a date (ever) because I’m not the stereotypical hottie on everyone’s list. I’m not bitter, because I know better. Oh sure, I imagine myself playing Naruto on PS2 with Kale while pigging out on brownies, but not being with him, or with anyone else for that matter, on a fine day like this is not worth grieving. We can spend Valentine’s Day everyday, just the same with how we try to make everyday feel like Christmas because everyone deserves to love and be loved not just on days marked red on calendars. Happiness does not need to end in one day –it should last a life time.

As difficult as it is to believe, I am a girl with human feelings that need to be paired up with someone whose feelings and emotions equal my own. And I know that I’d kill for a guy who’ll give me the coolest mixCD (modern substitute for the out of fashion mixtapes) he could ever come up with, because I know I smiled like hell when I read how Nick gave Tris mixCDs which contained songs he wrote himself and how Edward gave Bella a CD of his own musical compositions. I told my guy friends about the said idea, but it seemed like the most convenient way to go was a box of chocolates. I could only suppress a sigh.

Despite the ranting and whatnot about how one can go on living without Valentine’s Day, I still spent the day in coordination with the event. Early morning I began to read Nights in Rodanthe and cried when I read Mark Flanner’s letter on Chapter 17. My cousin’s friend continuously quoted Shakespeare and I envied him so much I wish I just bought that huge compilation of plays written by Shakespeare when I had the chance. Mum and Dad stayed at home for the day. I was furious, but more with my father for not taking my mother out. How on earth am I going to have quality time with myself in their presence?

I spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies set in either parts of the United Kingdom. I honestly do not know why, but I am so fascinated with the place and its people. I guess it’s the fact that the place is cold and oftentimes sunless, and the people are so debonair and refined and talk with an accent I try so hard to copy. In the course of 3 movies, I was lucky to have memorised this excerpt from Becoming Jane:

Tom Lefroy: How could you dispose of yourself without affection?
Jane Austen: How could I dispose of myself with it?

In the movie, Jane sacrifices her happiness (happiness=being with Mr. Lefroy) because she believes that running away with him would ruin his reputation and by ruining his reputation he would fail to sustain his family’s needs whose members depend on him so much. After a long span of time of not being together, they meet again one fateful day. Tom got married and had a daughter. Tom surprised Jane by accidentally telling her that he named his eldest daughter Jane *swoon*. Unlike Tom, Jane never got married.

I think, in every perspective, I was wrapped in deep comforts of romance today, still, even though I wasn’t on a date. And with that I have defied everything I have said a while ago about Valentine’s Day not worth celebrating.

THERE'S NO ENDING HERE.

2009-02-19T16:31:00.010+08:00

IT'S AN INFINITE PLAYLIST.

Just Dance.

2009-02-06T08:01:00.009+08:00

I liked how my guy classmates looked when they saw me slowly making my way through the flight of stairs. The look of awe; the holy-shit-tere's-in-a-fucking-ball-gown-with-wassat?-make-up-on-her-face look on their faces. Yes, I liked that -that, and the rest of the prom night.

My partner is insanely nice. But idk if he's nice because I'm a senior and he's a junior and he's just being nice just so I wouldn't ask my guy friends (who are, btw, bigger than him) to beat him up like mad. But yeah, he is nice. No doubt about it. Recently, I've been getting the feeling that I'm good at reading people and that I have a good sense of premonition. But reading Hypnotic is bad. Like it; hate it; like it; hate it. I tire of the tedium.

I liked the fact that Partner was a Junior Booter. Junior Booter, because he's not included in the super exclusive, super cool, super amazing lives of the pioneer/forefather Booters.

Soon, kid. Your time will come.

The food was way better than last year. Finally, I got to put something edible in my mouth and not have to pretend like it was delicious and I enjoyed the banquet of shit. My mom will also be very,very, very proud of me because I think I was the only human being who touched the plate of Four Seasons (probably the only one in the whole room, if I'm lucky). Like I said, I'm going green.

I danced.
I danced.
I danced.

There's no stopping me when I dance. Well, there's Hypnotic. That aint my weakness, but he sure has this effect on me which just makes me go swoosh.

Hypnotic: In this room, who's the one person you seriously wanna dance with?
Me: Seriously??
Hypnotic: Uh-huh.
Me: *smiles*
Hypnotic: *idk wtf he was doing*
Me: *I wish I could tell you that I'm dancing with that person right here, right now.*

I didn't tell him, but part of me wanted to. I guess I chickened out. I'm not shitty enough to be the one telling him that I like him. When girls tell boys they like them, things get fucked up and everything dies right there and then. I don't want my everything to die. For the record, he's not the only person out there. There's Psychotic. And we be buddies for life. :)

Despite the glitz and glamour, there was this bit of sadness in all of the seniors. This was it -our finale; our passing on to the juniors the throne. I didn't want the night to end. I just wanted to be with everyone I treasured so much. I took a picture with everyone I could get a hold with and I wanted to hold them closer and never let them go. Why do good things ever need to end?

I didn't care what other people thought, but I sure did dance to Single Ladies with my single friends. Kayssa and I were able to come up with the petticoat dance. Too bad guys didn't have petticoats on, but the hell. Guys grooved. Girls moved. DISTURBIA.

I liked the disco part. I hated the slow dancing part. Why? Becuase it's awkward dancing with someone who you're not falling in love with tonight and whose loving hands you don't need to pick you up. I was better off dancing that "Aaaaah... Awitin mo, at isasayaw ko" tune.

I had the most amazing night.

SLLAPBBAGG. MEDIEVALS. MCDO PEOPLE. BOOTERS. COVEN. WHOREKID. DUHLIA. CHAMPAGUITA. I love you. Always have, always will.

AGE DEFYING PRODUCTS CAN'T REALLY DEFY AGE, CAN THEY?

2009-01-13T22:41:00.004+08:00

You are young and so am I.
And this is wrong, but who am I to judge
You feel like heaven when we touch
I guess for me this is enough

We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

You are young and I am scared
You're wise beyond your years, but I don't care
And I can feel your heartbeat
You know exactly where to take me

We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

ooh ooh ooh ooh
ooh ooh ooh ooh

Will you remember me
You ask me as I leave
Remember what I said
Oh how could I, oh how could I forget

We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

One mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

[NOTE TO SELF:] I get it.

BECAUSE I SAW DREW TYLER BELL LAST NIGHT...

2009-01-12T14:52:00.007+08:00

That Pattinson knock-off triggered the fang-girl gene.

Edward and Jacob. It's like Harry and Draco. They're both meant to be. If that's not love, then what is?

Mom: I've been in love with RPattz since GOF.

Me: *hands-to-face* EW.

Mom: I knew he'd make it that far. I'm so proud of him.

Me: *ears bleeding* DAAAAAAD. Mom's gone fan girl again!

Currently, I'm catching up on classics. I'm stuffing Twilight in the deepest part of the closet for good. It needs to rest.

I'm going wolf. ;)

WISH GRANTED

2009-01-12T13:40:00.006+08:00

A few days ago, The Great Brown Flood (c) occured. The road fronting our house was completely submerged in water because a tornado hit the mountain and made the river go fuck thus completely damaging the drainage system. The water did not get inside our house, which was unfortunate because part of me wished to experience such a calamity.

The rain did not cease to take its toll on the city yesterday. It rained. And rained. And rained. I was eating breakfast when I heard my mom scream inside the bathroom. She said the toilet overflowed, and we were like, "okay."

I went to my room to fix the still-soaking-wet bed. THE MOST AMAZING THING HAPPENED:

Me: Gee. Something smells. *looks down and sees water seeping through teeny-tiny holes on the floor* MOOOOOM! There's water on my floor.

Mom: *gulps*

Me: And it smells like your poop, too!

SO, coincidentally, after my mom flushed her dung, the Amazing Leak Galore at Thurr's Place began. The water was clean though -no sign of mum's poop. The kitchen, my room, and the piano area was flooded, ankle deep. At first, we panicked. I panicked. It wasn't the water inside the house that made me panic, it was the water outside the house that made me go berserk. You couldn't see the road anymore because the water was knee-deep. Picture this: Houses=Islands, Water in the name of Flood=Ocean (though brown, not blue), people walking outside=sharks.

My dad said that the water would not subside if the main drainage remained clogged up. My mother and I figured we should just enjoy the moment and celebrate with a bowl of ice cream and a slice of our favorite bread while the barangay people did their thing with the drainage system.

The house did not fall apart. The water eventually disappeared.

For dinner, we celebrated at Road House. We sure do love the rain. :)

If you can make yourself happy in the rain, then you're doing pretty
alright in life.

NEW LAYOUT

2009-01-11T03:11:00.000+08:00

As you can see, my layout is new. I did not make it, though. I'm too indolent for that. If you're quite the observant one, you'll notice that the comment thingo is gone. It's part of the layout and I don't think I'm going to put the link back up. It's completely unnecessary since people only read and don't hit back. ;)

The archives are on Links. You can browse from there since this layout does not offer the Older posts wonder.

I checked the layout again, and there really is no comment link.

I'm going to back to my OSTWTW (Operation: Save The World the Thurr Way). That explains the Changing The Present thing. We've been watching CNN --Dad and I. It shook me again.

MILLIONTH INCANDESCENT LIGHTBULB

2009-01-11T00:42:00.000+08:00

I'm not hollywood. I'm not going to change who I am just for the sake of pretense. I need to realize my full worth -I need to know sooner, lest I be killed of uncontrolled self denial. I've been on fucked up situations and this is one of the bitter few.

I noticed that I've grown much, though the growth is more kept to myself. I am human. I feel a pang of hate against a shitload of drama; I feel happy about the continuous shower of blessings. You see the irony? With this happiness comes grave despair. It's always like that. How, I have no idea. Fact is, it's not me. Blame the weather. It tends to rain when I'm parading.

Life is too short for worries. I've lived with that line for as longs as I could remember. I'm turning eighteen soon. I have to accept that there are things I need to worry about. I couldn't remain immature for the rest of my existence. I need to get my head off the clouds because it doesn't belong there. Well it does, but it hasn't applied for permanent residence.

The Ferrero is getting warm and I am in no mood to eat it even though my dinner did not complete satisfy my hunger. It's 3:16 AM, but I am not in the right frame of mind for a good night's sleep.

KEEP CHASING PAVEMENTS

2009-01-10T00:07:00.000+08:00

I will never learn to move on because I keep holding on to the memories that have been holding me back. It hurts to hear the sound of the rain, because it reminds me so much of how it all began.

The undying frenzy keeps luring me deeper and deeper.

this is random

2009-01-06T21:12:00.000+08:00

So, my father and I were watching, consequetively, Transformers during the holidays. I watched Transformers with my dad in the big screen the moment it was released, so we were sorta reminiscing the moments. But dad had to totally ruin my Shia-Is-Even-Stevens-No-More bonanza by saying "Sheesh. That Megan Fox girl looks way too old for this kid."

WTF.

So I scoured the almighty internet for this (failed to get high res though. PHOTOMANIP ON THE WAY.) and I realized, "Nah. Bet cha, he was only jealous. " :))

HAPPY. HAPPY. HAPPEEEH.

2008-12-24T21:26:00.000+08:00

At 12 midnight I might be boozed already and will not be in the right frame of mind to think of something prudent to write about. So this is my advanced Merry Christmas post.

Merry Christmas! :)

Four hours to save the world

2008-12-24T21:24:00.000+08:00

I just got back from my trip to Dad’s place. My head is spinning and there’s no sign of slowing down. I think this is the worst Christmas because I feel like any minute now I’m going to pass out. I feel really, really, sick. The fact that my Aunt just gave me money to go shopping doesn’t even excite me at all. In four hours, it will be Christmas. And in four hours, I’m going to feel like I’m the worst person ever.

This year we decided that the element of surprise did not work too well on us anymore. It’s just too bad that I’m such a good sleuth and Mom and Dad aren’t really that good at hiding stuff. I checked the Christmas tree and for the first time in the history of forever, Mom and Dad did NOT wrap us presents. Well, they did get us presents but they didn’t wrap it anymore because we bought it together, so surely we have EVERY IDEA of what our Christmas presents may be --if they ever planned on wrapping it, that is. This is sad –so sad. I hope that my parents have suddenly become very good at keeping things hidden for a really long time that they were able to get through me and that they have stashed three more boxes for me somewhere in this old demoted house.

I wish.

HIKING/HUNTING

2008-12-21T17:52:00.000+08:00

Donathan screaming in my ear woke me up from a very amazing dream. I do not wish to elaborate on the dream, though. So Donathan was SCREAMING (more emphasis on SCREAMING!) in my ear, telling me to get my sleepy ass to McDonalds. I remembered that we were supposed to go hiking in Guadalupe, but I failed to remember to set my alarm clock.

In a matter of 4 minutes I:
-Rushed to my parent’s told my mom I’m going hiking, then ignoring mom’s amusing reaction.
-Brushed my teeth then rinsed.
-Grabbed the nearest pair of shorts and shirt I could reach then put it on.
-Took bare essentials and shoved it roughly into my backpack.
-Grabbed the camera which was hanging on the cabinet.
-Took money from Mom.
-Bid Mom bye-bye.
-Ran 6 meters to catch a ride

Well, I didn’t do much, but I sure was lucky to ride a PUJ whose driver didn’t spend an eternity hoarding up all the passengers in the universe. So I arrived in the nick of time at McDonalds and I was welcomed with tongue-in-cheek remarks about how unpolished I looked from head to toe. Despite of all the madness I didn’t fail to summon up my speech of gratitude to Donathan. And yet he still deserved much, much more.

Nature is God’s gift to man. On the trail towards Guadalupe, there was dung after dung after dugudugudung. I’d like to call it CRAZEEH DUNG-BANANA BONANZA. Banana, because every store we passed through sold bananas. Dung, because everywhere we went to had plentiful dung to offer. I appreciate God’s gift, but maybe I’d appreciate it even more if dung smelled more like lavender or musk or vanilla.

Who knew rivers were so materialistic? Goodness! The river wanted to steal our Havaianas! THEY WANTED OUR HAVAIANAS SO MUCH THAT THEY KNOCKED DHEBBIE OUT! (Dhebbie wore glow in the dark Havaianas, so she pretty much was the favorite target.) Last time, the river took away Munech’s cellphone. WHO KNEW?!?!

Bathing in the cool waters of the serpentine river was very much therapeutic. I wanted to soak in it forever, but the thought of planktons thriving in the water disrupted my inner peace, thank you very much. Plus, I didn’t like how the very mushy soil felt on my sole. Trust me, I’m not a girly-girl, but mushy stuff just doesn’t seem to appeal to me.

Through the whole course of the hike, Kayssa and I caught up with what’s up. Apparently she’s MAJORING and not MINORING so much. I didn’t know how I was to respond to this at first. All I knew was that everything about our whole conversation was insanely funny to me –funny in the sense that what we dreaded doing before, is our favorite thing to do nowadays.

BINIGA. :))

When you’re on your way to a party and you see a dump truck –RUN!

2008-12-21T17:35:00.000+08:00

I hate how the local trash collectors don’t keep up with their schedules. Do they have any idea that some people, especially at this time of year, groom themselves smartly for the purpose of attending THE MOST AMAZING PARTY OF THEIR LIVES and reeking would be the worst way to roll? Apparently, they don’t. That big dump truck was roving the streets of CDO to fetch other people’s trash, and it was already 12:32 in the afternoon when I checked. I was very much annoyed and uttering four lettered words did not seem to help vent out the anger. I wanted to run, but it would only make me smell like sweat. I hope God does not allow this to happen again especially that, I’ve finally learned to accept, high school senior Christmas Party only happens once in a lifetime.

The whole time I was at Mister Donuts, writing letters addressed to some kiddos, I was thinking about Joe Jonas. Oh! Something new, right? So I was thinking about him and incorporated him in all three letters I wrote, which was stupid because he did not relate in any matter whatsoever.

I came to school thinking I was one of the first few who arrived EARLY, but fortunately I wasn’t quite the early bird. I took my camera and snapped away. I wasn’t going to miss any of the face before me for the world!

You know how I’m so much of an animal lover. I was quite saddened to watch them kill this innocent fish –so pale and delicate and vulnerable to atmospheric forces brought upon by a mere worn-out folder, maneuvered by the wrathful hands of kids. The fish did not stand a chance.

I wasn’t going to let Dina not sit beside Donathan during this game they called “Can You Hear Me”. But Dina refused. Who better to take her place, then me. Kneesa and I ended up winning the game because people from the opposing team cheered on us and the EIC-KNEESAKATRINAMARIECASINOCOMETA tandem is just too tough to beat.

In 2018 I will be made Midnight Sun’s producer, according to Nathalie. Let’s leave it to that. (Disclaimer: Currently, I do not have any personal contact with people from Summit Media or Midnight Sun’s author, Stephenie Meyer. My work on Midnight Sun will be announced in due time as no legal contract has been, yet. I will assure you that I, as future producer, will do everything in my power to maintain the youngness and freshness of the characters which leads to the replacement of Robert Pattinson and the others for they will be quite old at the time official production begins.)

JAY’S FACE when he ripped off the gift wrap and saw HAVAIANAS is priceless. Could a girl really be awfully nice that everyone believes she’d give him/her anything they asked for? That was Jay’s case. So he thought I was really going to give him the branded, way-over-the-price-limit stuff and flipped when he saw the box. He was all “thank you” and “OMG”. But when he opened the box his ear-to-ear smile suddenly shifted to this look of embarrassment and disappointment. Like I said, PRICELESS. I laughed so hard –let me rephrase that, EVERYONE laughed hard. Though he didn’t get flip-flops, he was more than happy to have received an F&H polo shirt from me. Well, at least that what I think. I was happy with what I got as well.

And the rest of the evening was spent gathering all the kids and took picture after picture after picture and said pictures are now uploaded on multiply for the purpose of fun viewing but is now attacked by comments which vex me to death, thank you.

Nobody's winning.

2008-12-17T12:08:00.000+08:00

I woke up today wanting to dance to Superhuman. But dancing to it felt wrong at the moment, not because it was a slow track, but because I had no one to do dance with. It’s quite unfortunate for me to have woken up with a great feeling of loneliness on a Wednesday. What did I do to deserve this kind of forlorn fate?

My adoptive brother already knows my deepest, darkest secret. I did not tell him; nobody told him. He’s just way more observant than I gave him credit for.

It's December seventeen -the second day of the Misa de Gallo. It's also Ryo's birthday and I just whipped up the BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT she's ever going to have. It's even better than the new cellphone she got two years back. Celle/a will be mighty jealous.

So, back with the Superhuman thing -wouldn't it be great to have someone sing the song with? When the thought crossed my mind it hit me big time. In my entire existence I've never felt quite a feeling like this. I don't know what normal people call it, but whatever it is, it sure is making me feel damn right weird about everything and anything.

Question is: is it really...?

HEADER #4

2008-10-28T17:26:00.000+08:00

The quotation is obviously self-explanatory. Self-explanatory, because I do not wish to invest my time in another three-minute frenzy of elucidating something so easily understood and ,yet again, reliving the pain of realizing that the AWESOME 4 YEARS OF MY LIFE is slowly drawing its conclusion.

You know how people usually take things for granted, and they end up realizing its true worth when it’s starting to wither. It’s sad that way, knowing that in that small amount of time left to spare it is never really enough to catch up and we are simply defeated by the truth that what has happened in the past can never be brought back again to savor the second time around. What we have left are only memories of it.

It is not that I took my freshman, sophomore and junior, and on-going senior year for granted; it’s just that I wish I had more time to enjoy this moment in life because, as the saying goes, high school is the most fun a student can have. It is. There’s no denying that. And there’s no denying the fact that humans find it difficult to let go when they are already too attached to comfort. And comfort is what makes us remarkably happy. And when we’re most happy, we get the feeling that the clock ticks faster than when we’re sad. It’s seems that The End comes too soon.

Bottom line is I’m incapable of thinking of goodbyes. Well, apparently, I never am because saying goodbye is something I’m not good at. I’d rather vanish, as if I never existed, than say the word no one ever wishes to hear. No matter how often they remind me that good things lie ahead, I still couldn’t bring myself to try to accept that letting go [of something which brought you so much] is the right thing to do and looking someone in the eye as you tell them goodbye is not as painful.

Regardless of the hesitance, we move on.

In the long run we move on because we can’t fight the truth –the truth that good things come to an end and better things come our way. I know in my heart that I feel blue, but I must at least enjoy the ample amount of time left to enjoy this crazy, fantastic rollercoaster ride that is high school.

HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL THREE showed me that.

YOU KNOW YOU’RE MOM’S GONE TO THE DARK SIDE WHEN SHE STARTS TALKING SHIT ABOUT HER PEEPS.

2008-10-08T19:16:00.000+08:00

Apologize starts playing over the radio.

ME: Aunt OneRepublicLuver loves that song.

SISTER: Yeah. It’s always on repeat every time she plays it!

ME: At least she’s moved on from the old stuff.

MOM: …

SISTER: Yeah. At least she enjoys new music unlike others who are still to infatuated with dead people like *hem* Ringo Starr.

MOM: Well, you know she only plays that song on repeat because she’s having problems with her husband and her husband’s, like, saying sorry and then your Aunt goes “IT’S TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE… IT’S TOO LAAAAAAAAATE. YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH”

ME & SISTER: WTFFFFFFFFFF.

Starstruck = brain damage

2008-10-08T19:10:00.000+08:00

Do you have any idea how totally off it’d be to gasp in front of a very noble man in the name of The Senator? Apparently, when The Senator reached out his hand to offer me a shake, I gasp a little TOO loudly instead of telling him something far more important than *gasp*. When I’m starting to believe that I’ll have complete self control when I meet Future Husband, The Senator comes bulldozing down my shield down. Such a shame!

JESS AND I were completely power puffed from doing press work. We had to take pictures for the documentation of the event. And I meant pictures of EVERYTHING. And get this: some of the admin shooed us off when we got a little closer to the guest tables. Too bad we didn’t have D-O-C-U-M-E-N-T-A-T-I-O-N henna tattooed on our foreheads. I must admit I was a little ticked off when the seemingly nice lady pushed me. That was so crossing the line. How could she push me when I was already starting to move out? I wouldn’t be mad if she pushed me because I was being a tad too defiant. You totally tried embarrassed me just for doing my job. But I understand that you, just the same. :)

So the hearing begins a few moments after The Senator’s arrival. I’ve got to hand it to him. He sure has a fairly good idea that students like us don’t fare well in too-formal events like this. Thank goodness he didn’t make the hearing lengthy. You rock Mr. The Senator!

I told my dad about the event Friday evening. He and The Senator are good friends since way back when. The important thing I was supposed to tell (which means nothing now) The Senator is in relation to that fact. Obviously *gasp* is NOT in relation to any of the said things.

Honestly, my father laughing at me for being so starstruck at someone who doesn’t have Jonas for a surname freaked me out. Why? I have no idea. My mom was laughing, too. She even went all out with giving me tips on how to stay cool in front of a BIG persona (I don’t know if by BIG she meant famous or if she meant… you know –BIG!). Can I blame her? She was a groupie back then.

I love my groupie mom. :)

I WAS ABOUT TO BUY MYSELF A RABBIT AND CALL IT NOODLES!

2008-10-01T22:11:00.001+08:00

And because it was my birthday my mother did NOT argue with me much when I told her about my juvenile intentions. As spoiled as she always is, Tinkerbell frowned at the idea of sharing the attention with furry frenemies ergo hitting the red light on Operation: Rabbits-Make-Life-Cuter. I love Tinker so much that I’m about to change her name to BRATTITUDE because she’s a furry brat and because she barks every time she hears the song. It will do her good.

SEVENTEENTH was awesome. Thank you for all those who remembered and made this day most special.

INTRAMS.

2008-10-01T22:11:00.000+08:00

Some men see things as they are and say why? I dream things that never were
and say 'Why not?'

Sleeping on the floor for ONLY 3 hours wasn’t so much the picture of a good night’s sleep. And neither was arranging shirts [which don’t belong to me] with my eyes closed exactly my idea of a slumber party. Technically we weren’t ON a slumber party and we slept in school for the purpose of the getting the job done after bedtime and before kids arrive in school the day after. But it was still fun in many ways.

When we got back in school Ed, Neo and Jade planned to scare us off of our asses by hiding behind around the hallway and screaming “boo!”, but their attempt was nothing but a letdown when I saw one of their heads bobbing and I warned the others about their obvious little prank. They ended up laughing on the floor and their plot was history.

Nathalie and Jim won Mr. & Miss and that was something we would be able to talk about but we weren’t really able to talk about anything AT ALL because we were all drowsy, and hungry, and apathetic. Dhiane and I were too tired to say anything against each other so we only conversed through a series of forced smiles.

Morning came a bit too soon and when I woke up the others were beginning to tell tales. Ed’s weirder when he’s asleep. He was doing all this positions as if he was some model doing a photo shoot. When Neo and Jade woke up their hair looked like Elvis’ and Jimmy Neutron’s. I couldn’t help but laugh.

SO, I went home at around 8:30 and watched TV. A few minutes later I dozed off on the couch (the couch was waaay softer than the floor that I just couldn’t resist).

Then I dreamt about Skandar Keynes.

Boy grabbed girl’s hand as they took a walk down the beach. Girl makes childish gestures as they continued o stroll. Boy notices the girl’s habits and starts to laugh lightly. Girl stares in bewilderment.

BOY: You know what, I can’t believe how amazingly funny and innocent and sweet you are. When I say something which embarrasses you in ways I can’t define, you start to blush and you cover your face with your hands. You look cute that way. When you tuck your hair behind you ear, you look like there’s something on your mind that I can’t figure out. For a moment I’ll come to think that you’re bothered, but then you smile and it’s just so warm and happy. There are just some things about you that interest me so much that some times I lie awake all night thinking about what it could possibly mean.

GIRL: I had no idea how unbelievably observant you are!

Boy squeezes girl’s hand.

BOY: So it seems.

GIRL: But I can’t figure out anything about you. You’re just so… mysterious. Or maybe I’m just not that observant.

Boy frowns at the fact that girl’s so oblivious of the boy. Girl notices.

GIRL: are you mad at me?

BOY: no.

GIRL: but just so you know I’m fully aware that I love you wholeheartedly.

Boy smiles at girl; girl smiles at boy.

[WARNING: POST IS FULL OF OUTRAGE AND VEHEMENT IRE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.]

“College people” is synonymous to “lamesuckassassholes.” Apparently these lame-o bitches inundated with complete BITCHASSNESS are jealous and intimidated of high school students so much that they are desperate to see us loose in the intramurals.

“CHEERDANCE” was the first assault. Ours may not be THE BEST routine but we obviously deserve a rank HIGHER than 5th place. I mean, WTF!! You’re routines were complex, but too complex for your amateurish squad to perform perfectly. Like, hello! Clean execution is key! Cleanliness is next to godliness. Whatever! Eat shit! PLUS how come the MOST DISCIPLINED SQUAD award did not go to us. DUUUUH! We were obviously the most behaved unit there! Unlike those college kids, we did NOT jeer and we our squad performed they were so DISCIPLINED AND WELL BEHAVED. Honestly, is it me or are you guys just pathetically BLIND?

“AMAZING RACE” was the second assault. HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! There were A LOT of cheating happening during the race and I couldn’t even recall most of it. Most pit stops, if not all, were handled by college people and lordy, this college hooligans were so HARSH AND BRUTAL to the high school representatives. Plus, grabe pa jud ang special treatment nila sa mga college. Favoritism, much? UH. Well you can kiss you sorry asses yourselves because the THE ROYAL STALLIONS WON THE RACE. Hahaha!

“MR. AND MISS HIGH SCHOOL” was the third assault. OHMYGOSH. YOUFUCKINGPEOPLEAREBLINDTODEEEATH!! It was so obvious that Miss High School Number 1 was the best in the shorts attire department. Like DUH. The high school candidates did NOT look like HORRENDOUS, SLUTTY WHORES and the college candidates looked like HORRENDOUS, SLUTTY WHORES!!! Agggh! And that person who won Best in Shorts Attire looked like some second class hooker! Get a life! For the sports attire category, hands down I was betting for MHSN1 because her equestrian concept was really unique and chic. WHATTHEFUCKINGHELLHAPPENEDTOTHEWORLD when they gave the award to the girl wearing the one-piece swim suit which didn’t even fit her ass well?????? EQUESTRIAN is SOOOO MUCH BETTER! AND, Miss High School Number 2 deserved to win the Best Filipina Attire award more than that girl-who-looked-like-she-came-out-from-one-of-those-horror-films-set-in-archaic-times. But irregardless, we still won the MR. AND MISS HIGH SCHOOL TITLE because our candidates sure did kick ass in the question and answer department. It’s a competition of BEAUTY AND BRAINS not just BEAUTY, obviously. HAHAHAHA!!

“SOCCER GAME” was the fourth assault. DU-DU-DUMMMMM. UNIT X plays for UNIT X = good, clean fun. UNIT X plays for UNIT Y = shitty fucked up cheating! It’s clear logic kids. Isn’t that easy to understand? It’s obviously as easy as 1-2-3. But don’t fret Booters, you’re still amazing! never mind the sore losers. LOHSUUUR YAYAS sila.

“ACAPELLA” was the fifth assault. DAMNYOULAMEPEOPLE. The high school reps obviously did WAAAAY better than the college contenders. The other college students were even intimidated and thought of us as threats because we were that amazing. ANDWHYDIDWEENDUPINTHELASTFUCKINGPLACE????????????????????????

COLLEGE PERFORMER: (singing something I couldn’t even
define/decipher/understand)

SHEAN: (singing whatever the college reps were singing, but with
CLARITY)

ME: AHHH! I only understood what they were singing when you sang
it!!!

DHEBBIE: hahaha! True dat!!!

“MATH MARATHON” was the sixth assault. Hello!! IT FLOODED WITH A LOOOOOT OF CONTROVERSIES AND CHEATING AND DISHONESTY AND FAVORITISM. For this one pit stop, the high school reps were able to answer the question first, but the watcher told them that their answer was wrong. So, innocent high school reps answered the question again, and again, and again until they were they only team left unfinished. Then person-from-hell watcher told the innocent high school reps that their first answer is correct DIAY!! HELLLOOOOOOOOO!!!! And you noticed it a little too late already???? The college teams were way ahead of the innocent high school reps and that’s when you come busting over telling them you made a fucking mistake and you overlooked the correct answer. HOW COMPLETELY STUPID OF YOU? YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO LIVE. DIE! Then… then… at the other pit stop the innocent high school reps were told by those BASTARD COLLEGE WATCHERS that they need to collect all the questionnaires because it will be needed at the end of the race so Dina goes back to collect some of the papers they’ve left behind. Then Dina gets lost and couldn’t find her way back to the team who was now answer a question Dina had studied. I don’t blame Dina, I blame those BASTARD COLLEGE WATCHERS for telling them to collect ALL THOSE STUPID QUESTIONNAIRES which weren’t even collected/needed at THE END OF THE MARATHON. ARRGGH. How about we flip a coin. Heads up, the college students die. Tails up, the college students STILL die. That’s what you call fair, isn’t it?

“GUIDELINES” was the seventh assault. How come the organizers gave the other COLLEGE units the same, correct guidelines while they gave the HIGH SCHOOL unit THE WRONG guidelines? FUCKINGSHITHEADS! This is COMPLETE SABOTAGE! You should be ashamed of yourselves. Picking up on innocent, little kids so the lamest, MEGA-UNCOOLES act EVERRRRR!! ROT IN HELL.

Additional ASS KISSY to Bullfroggy. HAHAHAHA. :)))) hope you enjoy burying 6th feet under all things you see, including me if the right times comes. I LOVE YOU BULLFROGGY. YOU’RE OFFICIALLY ON MY FAVORITE PEOPLE LIST.

The kingfisher flies backwards

2008-09-22T19:30:00.000+08:00

And in dreams he walks backwards, too.

ME: Why are you walking backwards?

KINGFISHER: Cuz it’s cool. Like, crazy cool.

ME: Right! Falling down some pit you didn’t see would be your example of crazy cool.

KINGFISHER: I need not to worry about that. Surely, you’d do a good job guiding my way.

ME: But what if you’re already about to fall?

KINGFISHER: No worries. I know you’ll catch me.

ME: *gulp* But what if I fail you?

KINGFISHER: I highly doubt it.

ME: Why are you saying that like I’m some kind of krypton-fearing creep?

KINGFISHER: Cuz you are.

I looked at myself and noticed I was wearing a Superman costume. HOLY SHIT.

It took me 4 hours to write this down

2008-09-22T19:29:00.000+08:00

Right this very moment I am missing THE BIGGEST slumber party of the school year. Irish, Gizelle, Dhebbie, Meare, Dhiane and a couple of other people are going to have a sleepover at school. Yes. SCHOOL. The fact that the room they’re to sleep in is supposedly haunted didn’t even scare them. NOBODY gave a damn.

Okay, I think I just flushed. The OFFICIAL invitation to the slumber party goes like this:

Good AM, Ma’am! This is Irish, SSA President. Will you permit Therese to stay in
school overnight? We are in grave need of more staff people, Ma’am. You’re
daughter is very much responsible and dutiful and we need more people like her.
This is for the preparation of the Intramurals, which will begin the next day.
Please permit your daughter to join. Thank you.

Aww. I love Irish already, but I love her all the more just for saying that. My mom’s eyes must’ve popped out at this sight of responsible and dutiful. For her, it is unlawful to associate my name with those adjectives.

I could easily sneak out of the house and go to school, there’s a plan. But I don’t know if that would be the best thing to do right now. My mom is closing me in on this. If ever I would sneak out, the money I have right now won’t suffice up to tomorrow. So basically, I can’t just sneak out. So I guess I’ll just be miserable for the rest of the night.

To ease the pain up a bit, let’s just talk about my fondness to this one person I failed to notice my whole life. Let’s nickname her Kingfisher. Why? I have no idea (probably because I’m looking at a photo of a kingfisher right now).

It’s not that I like-like her, it’s just that I find her inanely funny and refreshing. She humors me best because there’s no stopping whatever she dare say, and usually she just splutters ridiculous mambo-jumbo. I wouldn’t forget this one time she defended me from some shitty mishap. She was like, “don’t blame this one on her,” and I tried so hard not to emit a smile for one small twitch of my mouth would blow everything out of hand. It’s the last thing I’d want. Exposure.

I wish to tell my sister about this, but I know her words would do little for me. What’s she going to say, “Wow! That’s cool! You’re such a moron for choosing someone loathsome,”? Yes, some people hated Kingfisher for reasons I do not understand. Well, more like don’t want to understand because trying to understand the reasons why people hate him would do so much as to betray whatever interest I had in him.

But whatever shenanigan I’m thinking right now is, in the end, worthless because I will be no more than just a friend to her. It’s not that I wish to be her “someone special”, but I wish for us to be tight like buddies (I refuse to call her best friend because it’s too sacred a word). But why in the world would she devote her precious time to talking to someone seemingly humdrum like me? Most importantly, it wouldn’t seem right to eyes operated by dirty minds.

So Kingfisher is, in summation, just a friend. Whatever dumb regard I had towards this person must be terminated because it will do me no good but have me live in an ill pretense.

QUICK HITTERS!

2008-08-08T20:52:00.000+08:00

Okay, okay, OKAY! I admit, I’ve been very, very, very, very neglectful of my cyber kicks. If there was such a law which states that all online accounts not updated or checked for 10 days or more should be terminated immediately, all my beloved accounts, MySpace, Friendster, Multiply, Blogger and others, will lapse and it hurts so bad because its all my fault. Well, not completely, entirely, absolutely-positively my fault alone. Haha. Duuude, let’s cut the chase, here’s the lowdown.

BEAUTY UNDER PRESSURE is a flowery statement inapplicable to me. My hair looks HORRIFIC, my eye bags are deeper, my face is paler (which is a good thing for someone who wishes to be classified as Stregoni benefici), and my brain is temporarily under serious reconstruction. I am strong, but not strong enough to take on one formidable task after another. I haven’t been this stressed in my entire life. I’m pretty much sleep deprived and social life deprived. When was the last time I logged on to YM? When was the last time I reconstructed my MySpace? When was the last time I talked to my online friends? When was the last time I invested half my day on a forum? WHEN? Why, it’s never gonna end, doesn’t it?

FROM THIS DAY FORTH YOU CAN CALL ME THE UNWILLING CHEERDANCE CO-CAPTAIN. I honestly was kinda pissed at Kisha for putting my name on the extracurricular activities heads list irregardless of the many times I declined her proposal. My dad, ex-law-student-but-didn’t-finish-law-school-he-had-other-things-in-mind, told me that Kisha just made a fraudulent entry because it was wholly against my will to be cheerdance head. Therefore all documents stating I am cheerdance co-head was falsified since I never accepted the position. This crime is punishable by law, thank you very much, but Kisha is so unnervingly tenacious that even scaring her with the “Oh! I can hire a lawyer and send you off to jail” shitload won’t do anything but plant a smile on her face and a victorious “Whatever,” from her mouth.

TWILIGHT. NEW MOON. ECLIPSE. BREAKING DAWN. I reserved a copy of BD a few weeks before release date. It was a smart move, I should say, because I got an awesome discount during the day I claimed my copy. Since I’ve been spreading Cullenism around school my Twilight books currently has a long reserve list. Here’s the tally:

1. Dhebbie*
2. Jonathan
3. Gizelle
4. Johnlery
5. Nathalie
6. Pearly
7. Janina (?)

I don’t think I can go on for more than a week without seeing all three, but now four :), books in the shelf together. Sure, I’ve lended it to some people a couple of times already but the consistent borrowing freaks me out. What will be the outcome of this? Will my books survive in the hands of these newly changed vampires? Is a new coven about to form? Okay, so I’m doing the vampire talk again. Sorry.

INTRODUCING: THE SHITHEAD SISTERS. Step aside Madden Sisters, the Shithead Sisters are big assed so make way! Kayssa and I are officially back together with the whole “sistership” thing. A few weeks ago we were able to catch Prom Night in the theater. We are notorious assholes and this movie did not get past us.

KAYSSA: The guys name is Bobby! Oh, Boobie! Boobie! Boobie!

ME: HAHA. And the psycho teacher’s an emo kid.

I DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS LENGTHY. So this quick hitters ends here.

If vanity had a price, we’d be on the verge of bankruptcy.

2008-08-08T20:48:00.000+08:00

Dina: I heart Edward! I heart Edward *flips hair continuously*

Me: I heart Jasper! I heart Jasper *flips hair continuously*

Dina: Jasper loves Alice! Jasper loves Alice *flips hair continuously*

Me: Edward loves Bella! Edward loves Bella *flips hair continuously*

Basically, Dina and I are at odds with people who take vanity like a pill. But we LOVE flipping our hair like mad. An hour was wasted with pointless hair flipping, Edward vs. Jasper vs. Jacob vs. Emmett talk, and more hair flipping events. Did I mention hair flipping? So, yes, hair flipping. When we assemble, our hair is treated like heavenly goddesses. With that, I’ll name my hair goddess Euphorianina and Dina’s shall be Spongebobdahoenia because she loves Spongebob –like duh. I can tell how our classmates are so indifferent in relation to our topic. Why, our conversations just seem so eccentric.
And we are eccentric in our own ways.

Still we are subscribers of the don’t-comb-your-hair-in-public belief. Messy hair is sexy hair after all. :)

Happy Pissed Off Day!

2008-07-23T20:23:00.000+08:00

Is it me, or is it every time one of us gets immensely pissed we rush off to McDonalds and feast galore?! Somehow Johnlery, Jason, Kayssa and I have been induced to celebrate our vexations and high temper with traditional burgers and fries.

I try my very best to not flare up my nose because I don’t want to expose my goldmine of boogers, but Instatia La Viva makes me look like those goofballs on Boomerang whose noses emit dark puffs of smoke as if they’re about to explode or something. Unfortunately for me, exploding is not a possibility. I thank Dina and the others for booger-checking me regularly, but still the runny-ness of my nose is so OUT OF TIMING. Like, DAMNYOU! Can you start the over production of boogers some other time? Some time in another lifetime, perhaps?

Like I said, it’s Happy Pissed Off Day today! Because Instatia La Viva loves me too much that he’s on the verge of ruining my life. Kayssa is P~O because, well, she just is. :)) Johnlery is P~O because his efforts to look for Trick It proved to be vaguely unproductive. Well he’s not really pissed, just disappointed at me. Jason is P~O because he just bought an MP3 player and we kept going back to the store to report a discovery of one complaint after another. Oh yeah, this time we resorted to Jollibee because some kid threw a party in McDonalds and Janina and Mr. Lupoy sat on this table for FOUR when there’s only TWO of them. RAWR. So, there wasn’t any decent seat for us that’s why we had to settle for boring ol’ fat ass Jollibee. At least Mr. Ronald McDonald rocks the red ‘fro.

Yes, we were still P~O whilst trying to enjoy our meal.

P~O all the waaaaay

Whilst the outbreak of boredom

2008-07-22T20:28:00.000+08:00

I learned 3 things

1. When this telecommunications company informs you that they’ll give you an award of Php15.00 worth of text messages NOW if you load up NOW, be patient enough to wait for NOW to arrive a couple of months after. NOW has a reverse definition nowadays, no wonder the word itself is so out of fashion lately.
2. Hail the almighty UnliText service. If you’re planning on sending out a group message, asking your classmates about your assignments, don’t bother! Unlimited Texting is only reserved for the purposes of gossiping about crushes and bitches. And assholes like me, too.
3. Gizelle and Mark pay as much attention to their homework as they do their crushes and bitches. :)

Epilogue: An Occassion (DRAFT)

2008-07-22T19:14:00.000+08:00

Last is a word without limits. I guess that’s how I see it.

It our last Acquaintance Party, but it was still our first as seniors. Our emotions have already started pouring days before this spectacle. How harder can it be to stop the tears from breaking once the curtains have started to fall?

RED ALERT! I threw a really nasty fit during the party. The heat was infuriating and how my ass complained in vain. I was back from McDonalds with everybody’s orders and everybody was in my ear and grabbing food and stuff and I was like, “WHAT THEFUCKBITCHES! STOPGRABBINGALLTHEFOODCUZIMSTILLGONNARECORDITRETARDS.” And they still continue getting stuff so I continue, “WTF?!?!?! YOUKNOWHOWEFFINGTIREDIAMFUCKFACES. STAB!STAB! STAB!” and I desperately rant about and toss a burger patty or two. My McFlurry was left to melt and my French fries began turning cold. It was a sad, sad, day for these fast food magnificence. And… I ate that patty I tossed. It was too beautiful to waste. ;’>

We were ONE. That very idea caught me in a trance of deep amazement. We went there as seniors –as the one. No Orchid. No Dahlia. No Samapaguita. And definitely no Magnolia :)). Just Seniors.

Within that moment of confetti invasion, I wanted to hug each and everyone of them because I truly, sincerely do love all of them. No mountain of words would suffice the greatness of how I felt. And in this post you shall know it.

and i thought vampires don't get sick?

2008-07-22T18:41:00.000+08:00

You got the flu, babe.

Quite frankly, I do like love being deathly ill. Apparently, advantages inevitably have matching disadvantages. And even though I have runny everything I am still strong enough to push the on button on the CPU and double click on the CS3 icon. I am that awetastic. :)))

Sister: Mum’s pissed cuz her phone’s the lamest

Me: Well, unfortunately, mine’s the oldest.

Dad: true.

Me: therefore, mine needs the most replacement.

Dad: then again, that’s true.

Me: which means I deserve a new one.

Dad: okay. Okay. You’ll get a new one in time.

My dad surrendered his old phone to me. HOORAY. :'>
Yes. Thanks for my great skills at giving exaggeration and emphasis on things, dad finally agrees to give me a new phone in time.

got lost in the mail

2008-07-07T17:34:00.000+08:00

I was supposed to give him this letter last June, but weirdly enough it got lost in the cyber mail.

Dear Dad,

Hello.

First, let me assure you that I completely respect each and every single opinion of yours. Your views will always be honored and taken into sincere consideration. Second, it is very difficult for me to argue with your authority since, after all, you are my father and I am still a minor under your fortification.

Dad, I am growing up. I know that you love me very dearly and everything that you do is for my best interest, but you have to allow me freedom. You have to know that I am only human and it is very likely of me to have mistaken someway somehow. Do let me take risks at my own will and let me learn from my mistakes. You have taught me well about right and wrong after all. It upsets me that somehow I feel you still don’t trust me fully. I know I’ve done wrong countless of times, but I learned (though I am certain that I am still awfully flawed) and will continue learning.

I am not saying you completely let go of me and set me out to wander alone nearly clueless, I am just saying that you give me a bit of space –enough for me to breathe and be content. The saying “mother and father knows best” is still very much applicable, but there are some things which I know will work very well for me. All I ask of you is to understand that. I swear I know what I’m doing and I’ll consult you when I don’t.

Thank you.

I love you.

Always,
Therese

Someone shoved poop at me. (070608)

2008-07-07T17:22:00.000+08:00

And I shoved poop back to the person. Oh! How my life is at glee! :)))))) TAKE ME AWAY… to a mental facility. SIKE!

This post is plainly an impasse because I have nothing to do whilst waiting for dinner to come. My fingers type on a whim now! Our school better promulgate the use of notebooks instead of notebooks (look it up! There’s a difference.) during classes. It is very strenuous having to use my own penmanship in copying a whole blackboard plus whiteboard of notes. And, wouldn’t it be MEGA-amazing if everyone had internet connection and we can just send in our papers, projects, whatever to the teacher via e-mail? It would save him/her the whole clutter and mess a bucket of papers produces. Of course, the school pays for the notebooks. Like, DUH! Not every one of us (I included) can afford separate notebooks. Irish better hear me out and submit my brilliant proposal to the higher committee. There, there! The whole student body shall praise me like a god once it has been ratified.

Let’s continue with more P.O.O.P.

My sister told me the most interesting story I’ve ever heard from her… so far.

“I sneezed and all this mucus came out of my nose like mad! And the best part is I didn’t bring my hankie. TEEHEE!”

Then, she starts talking weird shit about her “imported” classmates. Darn. Why don’t we have “imported” kids in my school? Oh! Maybe it’s because my school is utterly lame and poorly equipped with inviting appetizers for those who are school hunting therefore not enticing as many people to enroll. And the seniors are suck-up bitches. Kidding!!!!!!! I love you guys.

More P.O.O.P…

I love how Dad is not making me do errands this weekend. Why, I should get allergies more often –saves me from hefty chores. He asks me to do errands, still, but should I refuse, he won’t start a fit. WOW. I love you Dad!! Thanks for understanding that having skin allergies is very, very, very frustrating and painful. OUCH!

More…

I miss MySpace and all the people there who keep me insane. Like the person who I got this from.

More…

My cousin still hasn’t returned my pile of PS CDs. Damnitt.

More…

I must go. Movie night with the family. This should be interesting.

because my life is the saddest on earth.

2008-07-07T17:14:00.000+08:00

Because my life is the saddest on earth

I’ve been meaning to hit the theatres this weekend. Unfortunately, my sister is a little feverish and my allergies are going on and off. SoOoOoOoO, even after futile efforts of convincing mum and dad, movie dates are cancelled for now. And it’s a sad, sad life.

Lisa is getting on my nerves. Like, REALLY!!! She has no idea how tired I am of reminding her to give me things which I need ASAP. She tells me she is bushed and has not finished it entirely. In my head I’m like, “WTF???” I did mine in like a couple of minutes ONLY. I don’t seem to “bushed”, am I? If you’re reading this and YOU know who YOU are let me just tell you that I’m not mad at you. You just disappoint me, that’s all. No hard feelings, girly.

Ah! At last! Ladies and gentlemen, transvestites and stereotypes may I present to you the ORCHID CREST.

Sadly, it’s not one of my greatest creations. It’s really, really crappy. Oh my! Lemme breathe out a sigh. *sigh*

You guessed right –I am very bored as of this very moment that’s why I took the liberty of murdering our would-be crest. My creative juices have run out. Tsk tsk. So sad! So sad! STAB! STAB! Okay, I’m hardly making sense anymore. I will murder our crest again sometime. Let’s hope for the result to be antithetical to this –on a good note, of course. :))

duh-duh-duh-DUMMY!

2008-07-02T19:29:00.000+08:00

“Unsa gani ang anim?” was my question.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” was their answer.

They find my innocent dumbness hilarious at times. Some, those who are pretty condescending, think I’m really that dumb. Others think I am just joking my way, as usual. And most think that I am just so “tila” when it comes to Tagalog words. I couldn’t agree more with the latter. The hell with patriotism! Let’s all subscribe and convert to European citizenship in a heartbeat!

“Okay Miss Beautiful, you’re up.”

“Eh~”

“Yes, you!”

“Her?”

“No, you.”

“NaAaAaAaAw~… YOU’RE LYING!” *sobs and runs out of the room.*

My history teacher was the one who called me Miss Beautiful, and I’m the reluctant one who ran out of the room in defeat. When she pointed at me and said “Miss Beautiful” (oh! How the words still pierce!) I was trying to believe it wasn’t me. Not completely because I thought I wasn’t beautiful, but because I did not read my book pre discussion therefore I did not know the answer to her question.

Then Johnlery makes discomfiting remarks about my ass.

My ass is now very sad, thank you very much.

bookworm infestation

2008-07-02T19:23:00.000+08:00

It’s quite odd how everyone in is suddenly lifting books up to their more often than habitual. How did it happen exactly? Why, I am quite intrigued.

I have two theories.

One, they got bored of being inanimately idle every day. They felt the need of doing something fruitful rather than unproductive. Two, someone, in search for a fine word, inspired them to do so. Honestly, I rarely see them read books or even talk about books prior to this change of ways. There must be something behind the “exchanging books” frenzy.

curses

2008-07-02T19:21:00.000+08:00

I CANNOT BELIEVE we’re still smart enough to formulate such silly theory –a theory which states that our teachers hold strange abhorrence towards our batch, most especially to those kids belonging in the “first” section. We have several accounts which can prove the correctness of this thought.

BUT that’s not what this post is all about.

In behalf of the entire senior student body, I would like to extend our apologies to the teachers we have wronged in the past and in the present (and probably in the future, to add.) Quite frankly, we believe it was a matter of misconstrued moot whinges. We are heartily sorry for we have caused you pain, though it was purely unintentional and we did not wish for things to end on a sour note. The future is vast and there is much time to start over and obliterate our misjudgments towards one another.

Be well.

Incredulously bothersome!

2008-07-02T19:17:00.000+08:00

There’s this person.

If I were conceded, thank you very much, to slay one person that needs to be slain for the benefit of mankind, he would star in my act of barbarous rectitude. Should he beg for mercy, I will not listen for he hasn’t shown mercy to the souls he had once, or twice or more, mutilated.

On a sadder note, he is my friend. In one way or another, I can consider him that. But he has crossed the fine line –he has hurt me as well. How strictly callous he is, is inexcusable. Why does he prevent me from doing things I desire to do? Why does he prevent me from hanging out with people I call friends? Why does he question my hobby of reading books? Why does he think he is the only person licensed to be “cool”? Why does he always think I’m wrong? Why does he take over my life –my own life? Why, I have no idea. Friends don’t hurt friends, and that I am very certain of.

He thinks he has the whole world for the taking –like he owns over single thing he lays his brown eyes on. He thinks he’s the only person with the right over everything –like he’s some sort of God or something. He thinks negatively of people around him –like all souls of pessimists have succeeded in possessing him. He is very sarcastic and unkind –like he doesn’t have a heart.

I want to stray away from this creature. His company does no good to me. Problem is: he is always there, hot on my heels. Even if my face paints “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” he still refuses to understand the context and continues to stay with me merrily as if his presence was very much needed for my existence.

I think I will not meet a far meaner person that he already is. Again, because I am that nice, he shall be a dingbat.

to whom it may concern

2008-07-02T19:16:00.000+08:00

I shall let my inner pacifist rule over me in the next few days. It is a shame how monotonous things are. If things don’t go out as planned, I may be able to start a fit.

I cannot stand humans anymore. I am afraid to think that I may have lost my strength to restrain the monster that roars madly beneath me. They’re blood is agonizingly tempting and their otiose effort to make me notice them is utterly distracting. Are they toying with me? Or is their curiosity bringing out that fool in them? Whichever, it still feels wrong.

Stickaay

2008-07-02T19:13:00.000+08:00

I angered RC with my vain attempts to make a fool out of Donathan. It was barely on purpose. I don’t know why she’s so quick to notice my being uninvolved with matters that need my mere involvement. Apparently it’s not just her. Somehow, people around me are more observant than I gave them credit for. Latest of my rants is the unbearable attention my chemistry teacher gives me. And no, I am not her favorite student. I repeat, not! I dare say NOT!

When my amazing mind is completely blank, she calls me and asks me a question, askance of my attentiveness. I barely got through her first query but then she continues to call my name every now and then even though my classmates told her that I have been called a bazillion times already and that it was their turn to be questioned and given respective points. As of now, I haven’t given hostile verbal remarks since I am that nice after all. So you see there really is no reason to be jealous of me for suddenly becoming chemistry’s brightest star.

NOTE: this posting does not contain any virtual daggers, whatsoever. It is just do-tell. Thank you very much.

Because I am that pathetic now.

2008-06-23T20:20:00.001+08:00

I am absolutely sorry for neglecting you again, dear BIFF.

LIFE IS HECTIC. That’s all there is for me to say. My life is hectic. That’s all there is to specify. *hem, hem*

Hate, my dear friend, is the word for the century. It solely applies to me, I believe, because life is unfair in some ways. Why does it rain on my parade? That I cannot answer, sad to say. I do not need your pity for my being pessimistic. I am not perfect after all. RAAAH!

Because I am "brighter", I shall spare you the torture of my laments. Being editor's kinda *makes quotation marks in the air* okay. There aren't much perks to being... yet. HAHA. On a more serious note, a lot of things worry me. If I shall reiterate it one by one, both of us will die of bordome. GPOA and Financial Reports are biggies in my tongue now. I speak it often. Probably more often that ridiculous -one of my favorite words ever.

I celebrated Edward's birthday with chocolate cake which disappeared before me in a heartbeat.
"Humans have this weird addiction to chocolate cakes. They can't seem to resist. Not even try a little bit. How saddening. At least blood makes us stronger. Chocolate only makes them prone to tooth decay and diabetes, to say the least."

I am that quirky now. YES. That's what I consider vampire talk. I shared this thought with Cathrel, a new found vampire friend. It is hard for me to deal with humans alone and it is good that someone, who, by the way, is a much more experienced vampire than I, is aiding me in my journey. So a role-playing Edward sent a thank you for my greeting. It somehow made my day. A person would be a fool to tell me "keep dreaming". He/She has no idea to what extent "keep" shall end up to in my book.

I shall keep dreaming. On. And on. And on. And on.

That night day, I dreamt of Edward Cullen.

2008-06-19T18:21:00.000+08:00

I broke my record again. HAHA! I’m getting better every time!

The chemistry room rang a bell in my head. The tables. The chairs. It reminded me of that room where I used to sit quite near them –near enough to hear what they speak of. It looked very much the same in my mind, only it held biology classes rather than chemistry. I checked left and right only to find no success in my search for an albino female and an orchard-eyed male. The room was filled with uniformed tanned complexions very contradictory to the pale sight I was almost getting used to. So I slapped myself; woke myself up to the reality that I am no longer in that world. Life’s unfair that way. I have to suffer here.

And so it is raining in this little town of mine. I appreciate the little droplets of moisture but somehow I wish it’d stop just to spare me the pain I would feel when the thought about that place darted my mind again. I can’t wait for December and my thoughts are wandering into cold, unmapped roads.

OBSESSIONS.

It shall cease before my life shall end in bitter disappointment and vain.

Compressed eradications

2008-06-19T17:13:00.000+08:00

TOO MUCH PETTY THOUGHTS HAVE HURT ME PUNY BRAIN.

ZZZZ! BUZZ! BIZZ! ZZZERKK! CLANK! CLANK! SYSTEM… OUT OF… CON… TROL. WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN 3-2-1. ZZZ.

Too much is too much. ‘nuff said. I really felt the need to buy an internet card (Yes. Reserve a spot for me in the ever infamous Hall of Lame. I am that pathetic now) as I ran around with a basin full of water with little amounts dropping off from either side. It is quite difficult to hold on to such tormenting thoughts and having to wait until that very moment when God will look down upon me and bestow me an internet card, or better yet a DSL cable. Let’s give no emphasis on the drama. It’s never worth the while.

School turned out enervating, to say the least. I hardly even enjoyed the first day of school. There wasn’t a need for us to introduce ourselves to each other since we know not only the name of the person sitting beside us, sitting behind us, sitting in front of us and sitting a few chairs away from us, but also the translucent pros and cons that are hidden behind such beautiful facades.

The school itself was being unnervingly impossible. Can we not ever go through a first week without having a fit with the administration? Can we not ever have a peaceful entrance without having to think of the problem that is the lack of systematic service? Can we not ever hear ourselves complaining with the same protests recurrently? How monotonous! How shameful! I shall leave you with rhetorical questions. It is for the best of you and me.

Here’s a little insight on my brain.

Wednesday, 9:58 A.M.

Hmm. I shall get new converse sneakers on Saturday. I shall! And I shall see Narnia, too. That Suzanne kid is in debt to me for kissing my Prince Caspian. Well, I should also look forward to… nah! Theatres here are that lame after all. I’d consider it a divine and marvelous miracle if something happened. Pssh. They’re calling me my her again. I don’t even look half as good as her. I’m quite dorky and she’s, well, quite the fashionista I never dreamed to be. They shall tag along with me if I go to the optometrist. They badly need a check-up. DUUUUDE. This is torture. I don’t even know who these people on stage are. As a muttah-o-fact, I don’t even care!. I wanna play Pokemon. DAMNITT.

I need blood.

year 4.

2008-05-26T15:48:00.001+08:00

In two weeks time I’ll be marching off to the same gate towards the same school I used to love. The thought of going back to school scares me silly. I am not afraid of the teachers, the classmates, the lessons or even the gross comfort rooms. I am mostly afraid of the thought of it being completely boring. Boring, as in me-zoning-out-and-flying-to-Never-Neverland kind of boring.

It’s funny though. The teachers don’t really notice my mental absence during class. Well, maybe they do notice but they’re just kind enough to spare me the lecture and humiliation. THANK YOU.

Oh yea.

Time flies.

SENIOR YEAR.

My high school picture is far from how I imagined it to be. It’s a far cry from my cousin’s era, too. Let’s just say, I put everything on the down low. Nice and easy peasy. And to my mother's relief, I NEVER HAD A BOYFRIEND.

Freshman year was, well, absolutely positively oki doki. Honestly, I did think of myself as the coolest, if not the coolest then one of the coolest, kid among the bunch. I met a whole new circle of buddies AND, a fresh batch of egotistic bitches ready to destroy my high school life. I DID IT AGAIN -exaggerating even the tiniest drop of negativity. Of course, I had my own share of haters. HOLLA!

Sophomore year. Hmf. I can’t believe how not-so-excellent I did in Biology when I used to be so glorious in my environmental science class. It really did upset me knowing it was supposed to be my favorite subject. DAMNITT.

Junior year: THE FALL OF ME. At one point, count that as “literally”. HAHA, Falling to the ground, spraining my ankle during the DSBC. Falling off of the honor roll list due to a stinking 83 in statistics. Falling out of love (SIKE!). And more falling spectacles brought to you by yours truly.

SENIOR YEAR: I’m hoping for it to be outlandishly insane. As usual.

May the good Lord bless me.

So long sweet summer.

2008-05-23T20:42:00.000+08:00

I will have to reach the road’s end.

It’s hard for me to not sound bitter –to pretend that I was so giddy to them meet all and try look forward to what good fortunes this school year might have in store for me. You know what’s worse? Already knowing there’ll be nothing far from good for me to ponder upon.

For two months I was completely invisible from people. I loved it -every carefree minute of it. I never had to explain where I’ve been, why I hadn’t returned any calls. For all they know I just vanished like as if I was some murderer who evaporated in the blink of an eye from the scene of the crime leaving no trace, no evidence that I’ve even ever been there. It’s what I wanted. It’s how I wanted my summer to be. I don’t want this summer to end because I liked the idea of being almost completely wiped out from the map. No, “like” would be an understatement but you sure do get it, yea? Maybe that’s the reason why I wasn’t that all jumpy when I saw them again. I was already used to being almost completely alone, only surrounded by people who I could trust with all my heart and soul and have promised me that they have my best interests at heart.

I was only visible online. Of course, I still talked to some people. It’s something I won’t deprive myself of or else I would think I’m not human anymore. I admit I lied sometime because i can’t tell them where I really am. I know, it does sound weird. It seemed like I’m some juvie trying to hide from the authorities or like I’m some spy on a mission to save the world from destruction and can’t really tell anyone else about my plans. I really have no idea where this epiphany came from –this realization that hiding, as you’d call it, might be my only way to breathe again and if I could breathe again I might be able to patch up holes on the way.

I am yet to assert if I have been successful or not, but, without doubt, I am quite certain I was able to breathe new air into my life. It was a happy feeling. It was a good feeling. This is probably one of the best summers I’ve ever had.

:)